Thrush, linnet, stare and wren,
Brown lark beside the sun,
Take thought of kestril, sparrow-hawk,
Birdlime and roving gun.
You great-great-grandchildren
Of birds I've listened to,
I think I robbed your ancestors
When I was young as you.
John Millington Synge
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-glencullen/
