NOT as a woman of the English weeping over a lord of the
by Padraic Colum
Do I weep—
A cry that scarcely stirs the heart!
I lament as it is in my blood to lament—
Castle and stronghold are broken,
And the sovereign of the land beside the lake lies dead
In his day the English were broken:
I weep beside Loch Sheelin and the day is long and grey!