Of a race of kings who once held sway
From far Fingal to dark Lough Neagh.[[7]]
The morning shone and the fisherman’s bark
Was wafted o’er those waters dark.
And he thought as he sailed of his father’s name
Of the kings of Erin’s ancient fame,
Of days when ‘neath those waters green
The banners of Nial were ever seen,
And where the Knights of the Blood-Red-Tree
Had held of old their revelry;