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 slainNow your glad eyes rest upon.

Well your gaze caressed him o'er,His dark head you loved so well,Where the coulin curled and fellOn 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 Glimdu, gazed so long.

Glad Queen Gormlaith, at the dawnUp you sprang to draw him near,Ah I the grey cock loud and dearCrew, and then the Ghost was gone.

Stretched your arms in vain request.Slipped and fell, and wounded soreCalled his name, then spake no more.For the bed-stick pierced your breast.

Queen, your smiling lips were dumbWith that last dear name you cried,Yet some had it, ere you died,Niall of Ulster whispered, “Come.”