"The dooms of men are in God's hidden place."

"Then Conchubar, the subtlest of all men,
Ranking his Druids round him ten by ten,
Spake thus: 'Cuchulain will dwell there and brood
For three days more in dreadful quietude,
And then arise, and raving slay us all.
Chaunt in his ear delusions magical,
That he may fight the horses of the sea.'
The Druids took them to their mystery,
And chaunted for three days.
                                               Cuchulain stirred,
Stared on the horses of the sea, and heard
The cars of battle and his own name cried;
And fought with the invulnerable tide."
--Yeats (1893)

(When the brain is tired, poetry can be a good balm.  Just posted final grades, and now I'm fielding the inevitable "questions.")


(picture:  Cuchulain depicted in the Gundestrup Cauldren)