~the Celts~ by Thomas D'Arcy McGee 1958
Great were their deeds,
their passions and their sports,
with clay and stone
They piled on strath
and shore those mystic forts,
not yet o'er thrown;
On carin crowned hills
they held their council courts;
While youths alone,
with giant dogs explored the elk resorts,
and brought them down.
Of these was Finn, the father of the bard,
whose ancient song
over the clamour of all change is heard,
sweet voiced and strong.
Finn once o'er took Grainia,
the golden haired,
the fleet and young;
From her the lovely and from him the feared,
the primal poet sprung.
Ossian! Two thousand years of mist and change,
surround thy name-
The Fenian heroes now no longer range
the hills of fame-
The very names of Finn and Goll sound strange-
Yet thine the same-
By miscalled lake and desecrated grange-
Remains and shall remain!