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;