Cumha Eoghan Ruaidh Uí Néill

Lament For Owen Roe O'Neill

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Melody - Seq. by Barry Taylor
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Mar táid a Dhé na Gaedhil gan treóir is truagh!
Síol ádhmhar Néill, síol Éibhir mhóir i dtuaidh.
Síol Táil go tréith, sliocht Shéarlais chródha i nguais,
Gan cháil, gan chéim, ó'n éag sin Eógain Ruaidh.

2. I dtáimhcheas léir tá Éire ó bhóinn go Muaidh.
Ó Árdloch Léin go Daeil, go Feóir 'sgo buais.
Ó Mháigh go Léim, Ón Éirne fóst go Cruaich,
Gan lann, gan scéith, ó'n éag sin Eógain Ruaidh.

3. Is láidir a shéideas gaoth gach ló do thuaidh;
Is d'fhás ar léas na ghréine neóil go nuadh;
Is árd do ghéis gach spéir le dóghra cruaidh,
'Sní lán an éasg' ó'n éag sin Eógain Ruaidh.

4. Faoi chlár i gcré tá féile Fódla uainn.
Bláth na nGaedheal is éasga óir an tsluaigh.
Lámh na n-éacht nár chlaon ón chóir ar luach.
Is d'fhág Éire i mbaoghal fé léan ó'n lá do chuaidh.

The Gaelic race, alas, no leader owns,
The seed of Niall and Eibhear helpless moans,
The face of Eire now is dark with woe;
And fallen her pride, when died great Owen Roe!

2. All Erin lies in grief, from Boyne to Moy,
From Lene-Loch's shore to Nore, they know no joy,
From Moy to Leim and Erne, the dread word goes,
"No blade nor shield succeeds to Owen Roe's."

3. 'Tis cold each day the piercing north-wind blows,
The sun no ray of cheering brightness shows,
The storm doth rage, and still doth fiercer grow,
All earth grows pale, since death claimed Owen Roe.

4. In church-yard clay lies Erin's generous Chief,
The Gael's bright flower, this hour of bitter grief,
The trusty hand who ne'er forsook the right,
Leaves Eire's land in danger, dark as night.

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