Almighty, by whose potent breath
Thy vanquished Fenians sleep in death.
OISIN.
Alas! for Oisin—dire the tale!
No music in thy voice I hear;
Not for thy wrathful God I wail,
But for my Fenians dear.
Thy God! a rueful God I trow,
Whose love is earned by want and woe!
Since came thy dull psalm-singing crew,