Smoke had cleared, blood clotted, breaths gone
Flies feasted on the dead
Victories armies raged the land
Men fled to hills and bogs, prices on their head…
One such morning the Williamites came
To a house where the menfolk were killed
Where the Boyne waters flowed, before their king fled
The blood of the Drakes brave was spilled.
One man and five sons, all of his line,
His cousins and kinsmen too
Clan of renown, who had fought for the Crown
The fury of O Tooles they too well knew.
Yet again kings at war and they must pick a side
Once again on the side that had lost
For all that they gave for the Crown and the land
They as the least to their fate they were tossed.
Servant faithful tried the infant son to save,
To the far bank child and his sister in a basket set afloat
As if Moses on the Nile, families future, a mere child…
The Goddess River carried save in his weaved boat.
The Drakes that today in the area live work and pray,
Have to thank this unknown servant for their deed
Of those not of the name, but descended from just the same
Write of the thanks we owe to the unknown for others to read.