Battle-cairns

Towards an empty land we sailedNemed, our father, led the wayTowards the home of the brave and freeTowards our isle of destinyWe raised two forts and cleared twelve plainsWe worked the land and claimed our placeFour lakes burst up out of the groundWe sacrificed on sacred moundsBut gods envy the delights of men!A terrible evil swarmed ashoreAnd with them came disease and warTheir runed flesh was foul and blackIn battle their two kings were metThree thousand Nemedians fell that dayA pillar of stone was raised for each man slainThree thousand pillars on the plainNemed himself soon died of plagueTwo thirds of all we had, they claimedOne last assault on Conand's towerOne final attempt to end the terrorThrough mists of timeSound bloody chimesOf clashing shieldsOf arrows soaringOf battle-hornsAnd stones roaringScore sixty thousand fought that dayConand and his heirs were slainThe Fomorian tower of strength lay wasteMore pillars on the plains were raisedYet Morc returned from across the wavesCountless demons retaliateOn rhythms of rage he wrote our fateThirty Nemedians survived that dayIn utter defeat we sailed awayLeaving behind our sacred groundWhere naught of us remained...But battle-pillars on the plains