I charge you thus, for it comes from the land where I was born myself." And when his servant returned, having done as he was ordered, Columba said, "May God bless you, my son.

Since you have well cared for our exiled guest, you will see it return to its own land in three days." And so it was.

It rose, sought its path for a moment through the sky, and took flight on a steady wing for Ireland.

The spirit of that story has never died in the soul of the Irish and in their poetry up to the present day.
Lastly, as we read these stories, even in a modern dress, an impression of great ancientry is made upon us, so much so that some scholars have tried to turn Finn into a mythical hero--but if he be as old as that implies, of how great an age must be the clearly mythic tales which gather round the Tuatha de Danaan?
However this may be, the impression of ancientry is deep and agreeable.

All myths in any nation are, of course, of a high antiquity, but as they treat of the beginning of things, they mingle an impression of youth with one of age.