They buried Tara underneath the grass
And herded bullocks o'er the graves of Kings
And cursed us for the memory that clings
To our dead lions, not their living ass.
They joyed to see the Celtic culture pass
And all its glories, song and art, take wings
And now the dogs they do pretend it stings,
Souls hidden in impenetrable brass,
Because some passing alien steals the name
Not they but we held sacred...hush you dogs--
Sorrows divine can touch you not, you may
Never be champions of our island's fame
Who changed its harp notes for the grunts of hogs
Your Tara is...
This poem was written by Geoge Russell (AE) the almost forgotten hero of the Irish Renaissance. One would do well to look into his works.