"Long, long ago beyond the misty space of twice a thousand years,
In Erin old there dwelt a mighty race,
taller than Roman spears;
Like oaks and towers they had a giant grace, were fleet as deers,
With winds and waves they made their 'biding place,
These western shepherd seers.
Their ocean-god was Manannan Mac Lir, whose angry lips,
In their white foam, full often would inter whole fleets of ships.
Crom was their day-god, and their thunderer, made morning and eclipse;
Bride was their queen of song, and unto her
They prayed with fire-torched lips.
Oh, inspired giant!
shall we e'er behold, in our own time,
One fit to speak your spirit on the wold, or seize your rhyme?
One pupil of the past, as mighty souled as in the prime,
Were the fond, fair, and beautiful and bold,
They, of your song sublime!"
The Celts, D'Arcy McGee,
17th Century Irish Poet.