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A cup of bodkin-pencilled clay
Holds Oscar ; mighty heart and limb
One handful now of ashes grey : And she has died for him.
And here, hard by her natal bower On lone Ben-Edar's side we strive
With lifted rock and sign of power To keep her name alive.
That, while from circling year to year, Her Ogham-lettered stone is seen,
The Gael shall say, " Our Fenians here Entombed their loved Aideen.
The Ogham from her pillar stone
In tract of time will wear away; Her name at last be only known
In Ossian's echoed lay.
The long-forgotten lay I sing
May only ages hence revive, (As eagle with a wounded wing
To soar again might strive.)
Imperfect, in an alien speech,
When, wandering here, some child of chance Through pangs of keen delight shall reach
The gift of utterance, —
To speak the air, the sky to speak,
The freshness of the hill to tell, When, roaming bare Ben-Edar's peak
And Aideen's briary dell,