Then through the darkness is heard the sad song of minstrels mourning for the dead.  But soon the scene changes and mourning is forgotten.

“The heroes gathered to the feast.  A thousand aged oaks are burning to the wind.  The souls of warriors brighten with joy.  But the king of Lochlin (Swaran) is silent.  Sorrow reddens in his eyes of pride.  He remembered that he fell.

“Fingal leaned on the shield of his fathers.  His gray locks slowly waved on the wind, and glittered to the beam of night.  He saw the grief of Swaran, and spoke to the first of the bards.

“’Raise, Ullin, raise the song of peace.  O soothe my soul from war.  Let mine ear forget in the sound the dismal noise of arms.  Let a hundred harps be near to gladden the king of Lochlin.  He must depart from us with joy.  None ever went sad from Fingal.  The lightening of my sword is against the strong in fight.  Peaceful it lies by my side when warriors yield in war.’”

So at the bidding of Fingal the minstrel sang, and soothed the grief of Swaran.  And when the music ceased Fingal spoke once more:—­

“’King of Lochlin, let thy face brighten with gladness, and thine ear delight in the harp.  Dreadful as the storm of thine ocean thou hast poured thy valor forth; thy voice has been like the voice of thousands when they engage in war.

“’Raise, to-morrow, raise thy white sails to the wind.  Or dost thou choose the fight? that thou mayest depart renowned like the sun setting in the west.’”

Then Swaran chose to depart in peace.  He had no more will to fight against Fingal, so the two heroes swore friendship together.  Then once again Fingal called for the song of minstrels.

“A hundred voices at once arose, a hundred harps were strung.  They sang of other times; the mighty chiefs of other years.”  And so the night passed till “morning trembles with the beam of the east; it glimmers on Cromla’s side.  Over Lena is heard the horn of Swaran.  The sons of the ocean gather around.  Silent and sad they rise on the wave.  The blast of Erin is behind their sails.  White as the mist of Morven they float along the sea.”

Thus Swaran and his warriors departed, and Fingal, calling his men together, set forth to hunt.  And as he hunted far in the woods he met Cathullin, still hiding, sad and ashamed.  But Fingal comforted the beaten hero, reminding him of past victories.  Together they returned to Fingal’s camp, and there the heroes sang and feasted until “the soul of Cathullin rose.  The strength of his arm returned.  Gladness brightened along his face.  Thus the night passed away in song.  We brought back the morning with joy.

“Fingal arose on the heath and shook his glittering spear.  He moved first towards the plain of Lena.  We followed in all our arms.

“‘Spread the sail,’ said the King, ’seize the winds as they pour from Lena.’

“We rose on the wave with songs.  We rushed with joy through the foam of the deep.”