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124 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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See where Monomia's heroes lie, proud Owen Mor's
descendants, 'lis they that won the glorious name, and had the
grand attendants; If they were forced to bow to Fate, as every mortal
bows, Can you be proud, can you be stiff, my Woman of
Three Cows ? |
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The brave sons of the Lord of Clare, they left the land
to mourning; Mavrone ! for they were banished, with no hope of
their returning. Who knows in what abodes of want those youths were
driven to house ? Yet you can give yourself these airs, O Woman of
Three Cows. |
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Oh, think of Donnel of the Ships, the Chief whom nothing daunted,
See how he fell in distant Spain unchronicled, un-chanted;
He sleeps, the great O'Sullivan, where thunder cannot rouse —
Then ask yourself, should you be proud, good Woman of Three Cows ? |
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O'Ruark, Maguire, those souls of fire, whose names
are shrined in story, Think how their high achievements once made Erin's
greatest glory; |
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