o the god a-flame,
And round them thrice they sun-wise went;
Then naked-kneed in silence bent
Beside the pillar stones ...

But now
Brave Conn upon the ship's high prow
Hath raised his burnished blade on high,
And calls on Woden and on Tigh
With boldness, to avenge the death
Of his great sire ... In one deep breath
He drains the hero's draught that burns
With valour of the gods; then turns
His long-sought foe to meet ... Great Conn
Sweeps, stooping in a boat, alone.
Shoreward, with rapid blades and bright,
That shower the foam-rain pearly white,
And rip the waters, bending lithe,
In hollowing swirls that hiss and writhe
Like adders, ere they dart away
Bright-spotted with the flakes of spray.

When, furrowing the sand, he drew
His boat the shallowing water through,
A giant he in stature rose
Straight as a mast before his foes,
With head thrown high, and shoulders wide
And level, and set back with pride;
His bared and supple arms were long
As shapely oars: firm as a thong
His right hand grasped his gleaming blade,
Gold-hilted, and of keen bronze made
In leafen shape.

With stately stride
He crossed the level sands and wide,
Then on his shield the challenge gave--
His broad sword thund'ring like a wave--
For single combat.

Red as gold
His locks upon his shoulders rolled;
A brazen helmet on his head
Flashed fire; his cheeks were white and red;
And all the Fians watched with awe
That hero young with knotted jaw,
Whose eyes, set deep, and blue and hard,
Surveyed their ranks with cold regard;
While his broad forehead, seamed with care,
Drooped shadowily: his eyebrows fair
Were sloping sideways o'er his eyes
With pondering o'er the mysteries.

The eyes of all the Fians sought
Heroic Groll, whose face was wrought
With lines of deep, perplexing thought--
For gazing on the valiant Conn,
He mourned that his own youth was gone,
When, strong and fierce and bold, he shed
The life-blood of the boastful Red,
Whom none save he would meet. He heard
The challenge, and nor spake, nor stirred,
Nor feared; but now grown old, when hate
And lust of glory satiate--
His heart took pride in Conn, and shared
The kinship of the brave.

Who dared
To meet the Viking bold, if he
The succour of the band, should be
Found faltering or in despair?
Until that day the Fians ne'er
Of one man had such fear.