OIFA'S SONG OF DOOM.
1
The doom of the Children of Lir,
Thus Oifa dooms them,
Go pine in the feathers of swans
Till the North shall wed the South.
2
Three hundred years shall ye float
On the stillness of Derryvarragh:
A lake in Westmeath; Sruth-na-Moyle, the
tide-way between Ireland and Scotland; Erris Domnann, possibly Erris
Head, in Mayo; Inis Glory, an island on the coast of Kerry.
On the tossing of Sruth-na-Moyle,
Unsheltered, three hundred years.
3
Three hundred years shall ye keene
With the curlews of Erris Domnann;
Till the bell rings in Inis Glory
I curse you: nine hundred years!
17
The four Swans heard their doom, and huddled by the shore
Wept at the feet of Oifa. Fianoula weeping said:
‘This is a mighty curse, O mother of our tears!
Unmothered, comfortless, cold through the age-long night!’
