A Bugle Played Poem by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh

A bugle as a warning played
From a watchman in the spire
Allowed a city to defend itself
From attack by Tater fire

An one of the attackers saw
The bugler making the warning call
And with arrow fired pierced his throat
Causing the music to cease and man dead to fall

And to this day in that town
That music it is played
From the same spire on the same church
Where once it was a warning to a people afraid

A siren then, why is it now
That sounds of danger are so plain
Why cant he have something as sweet
As the Hejnals sweet refrain?