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The Tale Of Cú Chulainn
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Miracle of Sound
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In the sodden snow of the Irish hills Was born a Tuatha's child With a fighting heart and immortal skill And a spirit fiery and wild Through a prophecy he was bound and doomed To a short and a glorious life And he bore the name Setanta till A famous fateful night With his hurley in his hands His name would cross the land Well his Uncle Connor who wore the crown Of Ulster on his head In the home of Culainn the smith sat down For mead and mutton and bread At the door lay the Cú, the faithful hound A huge and terrible beast When a thief or enemy trod his ground Their bones bеcame his feast
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