The Dirge of Cael

Moans the bay —
Billows gray round Ventry roar,
Drowned is Cael Mac Crimtann brave,
'Tis for him sob wave and shore.

Heron hoar

'Mid the moor of Dromatren,
Found the fox her young attack,
Bleeding, drove him back again.

Sore the sigh

Sobs the stag from Drumlis nigh;
Dead the hind of high Drumsailin,
Hence the sad stag's wailing cry.

Wild the wail

From the thrush of Drumkeen's dale;
Not less sad the blackbird's song,
Mourning long in Letir's vale.

Woe is me!

Dead my Cael is fair and free:
Oft my arms would ward his sleep,
Now it is the deep, dark sea.

Woe, the roar

Rolling round from sea and shore;
Since he fought the foreign foe,
Mine the woe for Cael no more.

Sad the sound,

From the beach and billows round;
I have seen my time this day:
Change in form and face is found.

Ever raining

Fall the plaining waves above;
I have hope of joy no more,
Since 'tis o'er our bond of love.

Dead, the swan

Mourfls his mate on waters wan,

Great the grief that makes me know
Share of woe with dying swan.

Drowned was Cael Mac Crimtann brave,
Now I've nought of life my own:
Heroes fell below his glaive,
His high shield has ceased to moan.