Page:Irish minstrelsy, vol 2 - Hardiman.djvu/195

Rh

Oh! let me think in age
 * Of years rolled by,
 * When in the peace of infancy.

Mid all the ties of holy fosterage,$1$ The future lords of Erin's doom,
 * With smiles of innocence and unambitious play,
 * Passed the rapid hours away:

The royal children of my heart and home, Nial, the heir of hundred-battled Con, And Corc, of Eogan-more, the not less glorious son.

Years passed, my plumy eaglets grew. Their deeds were blazoned far:
 * O'er many a land with Nial victory flew,

But Corc he never met in war.—