"The light swallows are darting; the loudness of music is around the
hill; the fat soft mast is budding; there is grass on the trembling
bogs.
"The bog is as dark as the feathers of the raven; the cuckoo makes a
loud welcome; the speckled salmon is leaping; as strong is the leaping
of the swift fighting man.
"The man is gaining; the girl is in her comely growing power; every wood
is without fault from the top to the ground, and every wide good plain.
"It is pleasant is the colour of the time; rough winter is gone; every
plentiful wood is white; summer is a joyful peace.
"A flock of birds pitches in the meadow; there are sounds in the green
fields, there is in them a clear rushing stream.
"There is a hot desire on you for the racing of horses; twisted holly
makes a leash for the hound; a bright spear has been shot into the
earth, and the flag-flower is golden under it.
"A weak lasting little bird is singing at the top of his voice; the lark
is singing clear tidings; May without fault, of beautiful colours.
"I have another story for you; the ox is lowing, the winter is creeping
in, the summer is gone. High and cold the wind, low the sun, cries are
about us; the sea is quarrelling.
"The ferns are reddened and their shape is hidden; the cry of the wild
goose is heard; the cold has caught the wings of the birds; it is the
time of ice-frost, hard, unhappy."
And after that, Finn being but a young lad yet, made himself ready and
went up at Samhain time to the gathering of the High King at Teamhair.
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