The Courtship of Ferb
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.
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