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1 The Treanors are an ancient clan, And long have been in Truagh, That part of County Monaghan, Renowned for peace and truth. To the altar much devoted, True friend of God and man, In Erin widely noted, Truagh’s old Levitical clan. 2 In Truagh’s green woods they lived serene, The calm arcadian life, Their homes within a sylvan screen, Remote from fear and strife. The chief of this good clan was loved, By loyal hearts most true In sorrow and distress – approved, The fatherly Head of Truagh. 3 Surrounded by his daughters – seven, This chief felt truly blest, His fort a little piece of Heaven, Where sometimes angels rest, They spun fine wool and silken flax, Made vestments for the priests, Their time, these Sisters would not lax, Had little for the feast. 4 While sewing on an afternoon, Upon their verdant lawn, They heard the cry of hounds and soon, Up came a panting fawn. It bounded o’er the holly fence, Fell prostrate on the grass, That hedge was strong with thorns so dense, Through it no hound would pass. 5 Seven stalwart youths with retinue, Came riding on the scene, A lovely sight came into view, Seven ladies on the green, They made their bow with princely grace, And begged to be excused, Now came the chief, at leisure pace, To find the place confused.
6 Strangers – Chief of the Treanor clan, Bids welcome to his home, There’s rest and food for beast and man, For seldom strangers come. Amongst my folk you may remain, And hunt our choicest game, Before you leave for home again, We’ll learn from whence you came. 7 Most generous Sir, with grateful hearts, We’ve heard the words you spoke, In us, astray in these strange parts, Your words emotion woke, Meath men are we, from Tara plain, The seat of the Ard Rí, McKenna is our name and clan, Credentials you may see. 8 Seven days in Truagh’s green woods the spent, And then went back to Meath, The Chief was pleased to give consent, For their return to Truagh. It came to pass twice seven were wed, All Treanors and McKennas, Their families large, tradition said, Were boys – the first of the Truagh McKennas. 9 McKenna soon the dominant race, Hard duties did not shirk, You find them in the foremost place, When danger clouds are dark. These grand old clans so long allied, In wedlock and life’s task, The alien’s yoke, till death defied, And spurned the traitor’s mask. 10 Throughout the world their names are found, With fame at their command, God’s love and truths they still expound, In every mission land. The clans, Treanor and McKenna, Have been a happy team, May they flourish and continue, In virtue and esteem. Poem composed by Charlie McCluskey and published in 1956
The Treanors and McKennas.
All Content Copyright emyvale.net
1 The Treanors are an ancient clan, And long have been in Truagh, That part of County Monaghan, Renowned for peace and truth. To the altar much devoted, True friend of God and man, In Erin widely noted, Truagh’s old Levitical clan. 2 In Truagh’s green woods they lived serene, The calm arcadian life, Their homes within a sylvan screen, Remote from fear and strife. The chief of this good clan was loved, By loyal hearts most true In sorrow and distress – approved, The fatherly Head of Truagh. 3 Surrounded by his daughters – seven, This chief felt truly blest, His fort a little piece of Heaven, Where sometimes angels rest, They spun fine wool and silken flax, Made vestments for the priests, Their time, these Sisters would not lax, Had little for the feast. 4 While sewing on an afternoon, Upon their verdant lawn, They heard the cry of hounds and soon, Up came a panting fawn. It bounded o’er the holly fence, Fell prostrate on the grass, That hedge was strong with thorns so dense, Through it no hound would pass. 5 Seven stalwart youths with retinue, Came riding on the scene, A lovely sight came into view, Seven ladies on the green, They made their bow with princely grace, And begged to be excused, Now came the chief, at leisure pace, To find the place confused.
6 Strangers – Chief of the Treanor clan, Bids welcome to his home, There’s rest and food for beast and man, For seldom strangers come. Amongst my folk you may remain, And hunt our choicest game, Before you leave for home again, We’ll learn from whence you came. 7 Most generous Sir, with grateful hearts, We’ve heard the words you spoke, In us, astray in these strange parts, Your words emotion woke, Meath men are we, from Tara plain, The seat of the Ard Rí, McKenna is our name and clan, Credentials you may see. 8 Seven days in Truagh’s green woods the spent, And then went back to Meath, The Chief was pleased to give consent, For their return to Truagh. It came to pass twice seven were wed, All Treanors and McKennas, Their families large, tradition said, Were boys – the first of the Truagh McKennas. 9 McKenna soon the dominant race, Hard duties did not shirk, You find them in the foremost place, When danger clouds are dark. These grand old clans so long allied, In wedlock and life’s task, The alien’s yoke, till death defied, And spurned the traitor’s mask. 10 Throughout the world their names are found, With fame at their command, God’s love and truths they still expound, In every mission land. The clans, Treanor and McKenna, Have been a happy team, May they flourish and continue, In virtue and esteem. Poem composed by Charlie McCluskey and published in 1956
The Treanors and McKennas.