Who ne’er for treasure burned;
Or Duiné’s son to woman sweet,
Who ne’er from battle turned,
But fearless with his single glaive
A hundred foemen dared to brave:
If lived Macgaree stern and wild,
That hero of the trenchant brand;
Or Caoilte, Ronan’s witty child,
Of liberal heart and open hand;
Or Oscar, once my darling boy,