J. F. Campbell Collection > Transactions of the Ossianic Society > Volume 4

53
P. I have not heard, son of the king,
wise Oisin of the fierce deeds ;
Kelate to me and tell no untruth,
How the chase was made by ye ?
0. We [the Fenians] never used to tell untruth,
Falsehood was never attributed to us ;
By truth and the might of our hands,
We came safe out of every conflict.
There never sat a cleric in a church,
Tho' melodiously ye think they chant psalms.
More true to his word than the Fians,
Men who never shrunk from fierce conflicts.
A cleric never sat in a church,
Patrick mild of the sweet voice ;
More hospitable than Fionn himself,
A man who was not niggardly, in bestowing gold.
If Mac Morna the swift were now alive,
The mighty Goll, who loved not jewels ;
Or, the son of O'Duibhne of the women,
The hero who used to engage a hundred in the fight.
If Feargus, the hospitable bard, were alive,
He who used to bestow their songs on the Fenians ;
Or Daire who used to sing without fault.
In the sound of thy bells, I would take no pleasure.
If Mac Garadh of the blades were alive,
He who was not slow, in making slaughter ;
Oscur or Mac Ronain the cheerful,
Your droning in the church would not bo pleasant.