One note rising on the wind: <br />piper play, the lament is called for: <br />lower him down and softly keen <br />Cu Chulainn's going to his rest. <br /> <br />Lady Emer cry farewell <br />the man is bruised and broken <br />no token of your love will now <br />redeem Cu Chulainn from the grave. <br /> <br />hang your heads, o noble beasts <br />hounds of Ulster ye are bereft <br />no master now, for he is slain <br />there's is no more Cu Chulainn <br /> <br />men of Ulster faint and ill <br />bestir your voices in his name <br />his fame should raise you from your cots <br />Cu Chulainn cannot from the grave. <br /> <br />O grey world, no music now <br />no gay troop, no feasts or feis <br />dash the cup from kingly hands <br />Cu Chulainn cannot longer drink <br /> <br />You could not face the man in life <br />you feared to face him as he lied <br />O men of munster hang your head <br />Cu Chulainn beat you all at last <br /> <br />Stand back, hang back and let <br />the birds of war attend his grave <br />only they can follow now <br />Cu Chulainn the hero as he goes.<br /><br />Geraldine Moorkens Byrne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-of-the-hero/
