Did droop, till Leinster's suppliant prayer
Appeased the vengeful rhyme.
Ah, me, or e'er the hour arrive
Shall bid my long-forgotten tones,
Unknown One, on your lips revive,
Here, by these moss-grown stones,
What change shall o'er the scene have cross'd
What conquering lords anew have come;
What lore-armed, mightier Druid host
From Gaul or distant Rome!