n the night at the house of MacJohn, whom he, in the first
place, took prisoner, and his wife, steed, and hound, and all his
property, were under Con's control, for he found the same steed, with
sixteen others, in the town on that occasion. All the Glynnes were
plundered on the following day by Con's people, but he afterwards,
however, made perfect restitution of all property, to whomsoever it
belonged, to MacJohn's wife, and he set her husband free to her after he
had passed the Bann westward. He brought with him the steed and great
booty and spoils, into Tirhugh, and ordered the cattle-prey to be let
out on the pasturage.--"Annals of the Four Masters," translated by Owen
Connellan, Esq., p. 331-2. This poem, founded upon the foregoing
passage (and in which the hero acts with more generosity than the Annals
warrant) was written and published in the Dublin University Magazine
before the appearance of Mr. O'Donovan's "Annals of the Kingdom of
Ireland,"--the magnificent work published in 1848 by Messrs. Hodges and
Smith, of this city. For Mr. O'Donovan's version of this passage, which
differs from that of the former translator in two or three important
particulars, see the second volume of his work, p. 1219. The principal
castle of the O'Donnell's was at Donegal. The building, of which some
portions still exist, was erected in the twelfth century. The
banqueting-hall, which is the scene of the opening portion of this
ballad, is still preserved, and commands some beautiful views.]

The evening shadows sweetly fall
Along the hills of Donegal,
Sweetly the rising moonbeams play
Along the shores of Inver Bay,[77]
As smooth and white Lough Eask[78] expands
As Rosapenna's[79] silvery sands,
And quiet reigns all o'er thy fields,
Clan Dalaigh[80] of the golden shields.

The fairy gun[81] is heard no more
To boom within the cavern'd shore,
With smoother roll the torrents flow
Adown the rocks of Assaroe;[82]
Securely, till the coming day,
The red deer couch in far Glenvay,
And all is peace and calm around
O'Donnell's castled moat and mound.

But in the hall there feast to-night
Full many a kern and many a knight,
And gentle dames, and clansmen strong,
And wandering bards, with store of song:
The board is piled with smoking kine,
And smooth bright cups of Spanish wine,
And fish and fowl from stream and shaw,
And fragrant mead and usquebaugh.

The chief is at the table's head--
'Tis Con, the son of Hugh the Red--