Classic Poem

When last I went riding
Through Lyme of the King
I heard the town's Crier
I heard the bell ring.
But not for the lost King
That's over the water
It wailed through the West
For a Queen and a daughter

Ah woe for the townland
That wails for its queen
For the Unicorn fled
Where Fame's garland is green.
For in quest of the Laurel
She went up to town
— Ah, if I were the Lion
We'd fight for the Crown.