Page:The courtship of Ferb (Leahy).djvu/84

 For your eye-strings are shattered Death's poison prevails; As the cold corpses gather, The stubborn fight fails.

A hundred armed heroes The Dog for you tore; Your grim tale foreshadows Fresh fights, sorrow sore.

I know you with sorrow, And, weeping, I yearn In company with you To ashes to burn!

Young Connaught men,—Erin No fairer troop knows,— I mourn for you; slaughtered By ill-shapen foes.

Your fight with Fomorians A fierce fight has been; Behind your proud corpses The women will keen.