Conn Of The Hundred Battles

Conn was in Teamhair at the Rath of The Kings
The dawn of a blistering sun
With his three Druids with him
Maol, Bloc and Bhuice
And three poets, Ethain
Corb and Cesarn
Looking for people of the Sidhe
He stood upon a stone
And it screamed under his feet
The screams were heard
All over the lands of Teamhair
"Where has it come from
And why did it scream?"
Conn asked his druid
With a vacant stare
No answer revealed till the end
Of fifty-three days.

The stone is the Lia Fail
From the lands of Falias
In Teamhair it is and will be forever
And if no king comes to the end
Of the gathering
There will be drought
And suffering in that year.

And while they waited
A mist of blackness arose
A figure in the darkness
Noise of a rider coming forth
The rider threw three spears!
Each one faster than the last!
And at the sound of his name
The rider stopped
He came to them
And bade them welcome
They came to an ancestral plain
A king's rath, and a golden tree
At its door
And inside the rath, a grand hall
And a roof of white bronze
So they went into the house
The Rider in his Ancient Chair
The reflection of the sun
On his shining face.

That woman is the Kingship of Ireland Forever
Conn you will fight a hundred battles Before you die
And I, I am the Sun!
I am Lugh of the Long Hand!