when evening in eireann was gray before the dawn went away their footsteps on hills were heard on journey long without a word from wilderland to western shore through dragon lair and hidden door from northern waste to southern hill on darkling woods they walked at will with fionn and oisin dwarfe and man bird and bough and beast in den with warrior druid folk in secret tongues they spoke a deadly sword a healing hand trumpet voice a burning brand their backs that bent neath their load those warriors on the road