Death of Gormlaith
Gormlaith, wife of Niall Glundu,
Happy was your dream that night,
Dreamt you woke in sudden fright,
Niall of Ulster stood by you.
Niall of Ulster, dead and gone,
Many a year had come again,
Him who was in battle slain
Now your glad eyes rest upon.
Well your gaze caressed him o’er,
His dark head you loved so well,
Where the coulin curled and fell
On the clever brow he bore.
Those brave shoulders wide and strong,
Many a Dane had quaked to see,
Never phantom fair as he,—
Wife of Glundu, gazed so long.
Glad Queen Gormlaith, at the dawn
Up you sprang to draw him near,
Ah! the grey cock loud and clear
Crew, and then the Ghost was gone.
Stretched your arms in vain request,
Slipped and fell, and wounded sore
Called his name, then spake no more,
For the bed-stick pierced your breast.
Queen, your smiling lips were dumb
With that last dear name you cried,
Yet some had it, ere you died,
Niall of Ulster whispered, ‘Come.’
