Thrice fifty princes with mantles gay
And a brooch of gold, of brightest hue
In each of their radiant mantles.
There is a cask of joyous mead
Distributed to the household.
How much soever may be consumed
It remains ever full and enduring.
A woman abides in this noble house
Above all the women of Erin.
With hair of gold she welcomes us
In her accomplished beauty.
Her speech to the men of every king
Beautiful, wise, and gentle," etc.
Or in Condla of the Golden Hair:
"There is another land
It were not ill for thee to visit it,
I see the bright sun is setting
How far soever it be, before night we shall arrive.
It is the land of joy
Passing the dreams of all men.
There is no one dwelling there
Save noble women and maidens."
The same blissful conceptions are found in every story of the unseen world. The happy, careless nature of the Celt, prone to optimism, and always determined to believe the best rather than to fear the worst, conjured up for himself a radiant land where all that he loved best in life was to be reproduced and multiplied. Everlasting youth, brave men and lovely women, music, drinking, and pastimes, were all to be found there, and as warfare and blood-shedding were essential to happiness in the earthly life, they are at times reproduced in the other world, and the happy mortal is called upon to take part in them. He is tempted away by a fair maiden, usually by means of a wondrous apple of every flavour, and which, however much it was partaken of, never grew less, or by a magic branch that played melodious music, and whose call was irresistible. These features recur in almost every legend of the unseen world. A sort of trance is
