Inis Fë¡l

Now may we turn aside and dry our tears,
And comfort us, and lay aside our fears,
For all is gone, all comely quality,
All gentleness and hospitality,
All courtesy and merriment is gone;
Our virtues all are withered every one,
Our music vanished and our skill to sing:
Now may we quiet us and quit our moan,
Nothing is whole that could be broke; no thing
Remains to us of all that was our own.