And the secret song of the gods is faint beside the craving in my blood.
Fand, Fand, Fand, white one, who art no dream but a woman,
Come forth from the grianân, or lo by the word of me, Ulad the King,
Forth shalt thou come as a she-wolf, and no more be a woman,
Come forth to me, Fand, who am now as a flame for thy burning!
Thereupon a low laugh was heard, and Fand came forth out of the grianân. White and beautiful she was, the fairest of all women, and Ulad was glad. When near, she whispered in his ears, and hand-in-hand they went back into the grianân.
At dawn Ulad looked upon the beauty of Fand, and he saw she was as a flower.
“O fair and beautiful Dream,” he whispered—but of a sudden Fand laughed in her sleep, and he remembered what Connla the Wise had told him.
“Woman,” Ulad muttered then, “I see well that thou art not my Dream, but only a woman.” And with that he half-rose from her.
Fand opened her eyes, and the beauty of them was greater for the light that was there.