Three Irish Bardic Tales Being Metrical Versions of the Three Tales known as The Three Sorrows of Story-telling. By John Todhunter |
 |
 |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
 | Three Irish Bardic Tales |  |
Then, for the last time shrieked the sword, and with that shriek
Together on the sward fell their three heads: the sod
Of Ireland drank their blood. None better ever dimmed
The dew on the shamrock leaves, or turned the daisy's face
Red on the Irish sod. So died, slain at one blow,
In their fresh prime of life, Usna's three noble Sons.
Together on the sward fell their three heads: the sod
Of Ireland drank their blood. None better ever dimmed
The dew on the shamrock leaves, or turned the daisy's face
Red on the Irish sod. So died, slain at one blow,
In their fresh prime of life, Usna's three noble Sons.
| Three Irish Bardic Tales | |