XXVI. 1THE DECISION OF THE BATTLE1

XXVI. ¹THE DECISION OF THE BATTLE¹

"Ravens shall pick

The necks of men!

Blood shall gush

Skins shall be hacked;

Crazed with spoils!

In battle brave,

Luibnech near!

Warriors' storm;

Mien of braves;

Cruachan's men!

Ruin complete!

Lines shall be strewn

Under foot;

Their race die out!

Then Ulster hail:

To Ulster woe:

(This she said in Erna's ear.)

Naught inglorious shall they do

Who them await!"

"Arise, ye kings of Macha,

Valiant in your deeds!

Imbel's kine the Badb doth covet:

Goodly heroes' battle rushes in⁴

With deeds of valour!

Hearts all red with gore:

Brows turned in flight.

Dismay of battle riseth.

For there was never found

One like unto Cuchulain,

If it is for Cualnge's kine,

Let them now arise!"