Page:Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry - Meyer.djvu/65

 Then said another woman:

Ye are seeking to kill one, Ye are killing many. Infants ye slay, The fathers ye wound, The mothers ye kill. Hell with your deed is full, Heaven is shut, Ye have spilt the blood of guiltless innocents.

And yet another woman said:

O Christ, come to me! With my son take my soul quickly! O great Mary, Mother of God's Son, What shall I do without my son? For Thy Son my spirit and sense are killed. I am become a crazy woman for my son. After the piteous slaughter My heart is a clot of blood From this day till Doom.