Cradles.

Wyeth, Shade, 1981

OLD MYTHOLOGIES

And now, at last, all proud deeds done,

Mouths dust-stopped, dark they embrace

Suitably disposed, as urns, underground.

Cattle munching soft spring grass

-Epicures of shamrock and the four-leaved clover-

Hear a whimper of ancient weapons,

As a whole dormitory of heroes turn over,

Regretting their butchers' days.

This valley cradles their archaic madness

It upheld their savage stride:

To bagpiped battle marching,

Wolfhounds, lean as models,
At their urgent heels.

John Montague