ianna. As he came near, they all stopped their work to gaze upon
him, for to them he appeared like a messenger of the Fairy Folk or an
angel from heaven. Taller and mightier he was than the men-folk they
knew, with sword-blue eyes and brown ruddy cheeks; in his mouth, as
it were, a shower of pearls, and bright hair clustered beneath the rim
of his helmet. And as Oisin looked upon their puny forms, marred by
toil and care, and at the stone which they feebly strove to heave from
its bed, he was filled with pity, and thought to himself, "not such
were even the churls of Erinn when I left them for the Land of Youth,"
and he stooped from his saddle to help them. His hand he set to the
boulder, and with a mighty heave he lifted it from where it lay and
set it rolling down the hill. And the men raised a shout of wonder and
applause, but their shouting changed in a moment into cries of terror
and dismay, and they fled, jostling and overthrowing each other to
escape from the place of fear; for a marvel horrible to see had taken
place. For Oisin's saddle-girth had burst as he heaved the stone, and
he fell headlong to the ground. In an instant the white steed had
vanished from their eyes like a wreath of mist, and that which rose,
feeble and staggering, from the ground was no youthful warrior but a
man stricken with extreme old age, white-bearded and withered, who
stretched out groping hands and moaned with feeble and bitter cries.
And his crimson cloak and yellow silken tunic were now but coarse
homespun stuff tied with a hempen girdle, and the gold-hilted sword
was a rough oaken staff such as a beggar carries who wanders the roads
from farmer's house to house.

[24] Glanismole, near Dublin.

When the people saw that the doom that had been wrought was not for
them they returned, and found the old man prone on the ground with
his face hidden in his arms. So they lifted him up and asked who he
was and what had befallen him. Oisin gazed round on them with dim
eyes, and at last he said, "I was Oisin the son of Finn, and I pray ye
tell me where he now dwells, for his Dun on the Hill of Allen is now a
desolation, and I have neither seen him nor heard his hunting horn
from the Western to the Eastern Sea." Then the men gazed strangely on
each other and on Oisin, and the overseer asked, "Of what Finn dost
thou speak, for there be many of that name in Erinn?" Oisin said,
"Surely of Finn mac Cumhal mac Trenmor, captain of the Fianna of