It was in the 13th century, by ancient records shown,
That Hugh O’Neill to battle led the warlike Cinel Owen,
When from Ulidia foreigners came, to plunder Glenconkine,
And rob the shrine of Columbkill, built on yon hillside green.
Dermot MacLoughlin was the man, who led that warrior band,
O’er vale and hill and mountain wild, far from their native land,
But little did that chieftan think, upon that fatal day,
That he would die a warrior’s death, upon yon distant brae.
When Hugh O’Neil the tidings heard, that he was in the glen,
He told his chiefs to muster up a hosting of his men,
On the white road from Tullyhog, that armed host was seen,
Upon their way to meet their foe, at distant Glenconkine.
At Altayeskey wild and bare, they found the foe they sought,
And on that wild and barren place, a battle fierce was fought,
Alas, for the Ulidians bold, their leader soon lay dead,
And fast before the Cinel Owen, his conquered warriors fled.
MacLoughlin’s corpse was buried at the place where he was slain,
And those who search to find his grave, shall always search in vain,
The wild winds whistle o’er it, as each winters snow falls down,
Upon yon hallowed ruins, and the churchyard lying round.
Ambition is a glorious thing if put to proper use,
But may lead to destruction if it’s coupled with abuse,
Remember bold MacLoughlin and his disregard of God,
And how he lies on yon hillside, beneath our native soil.
(March, 1957)
George Barnett 