The poem
I am tired of cursing the Bishop, (Said Crazy Jane) Nine books or nine hats Would not make him a man. I have found something worse To meditate on. A King had some beautiful cousins. But where are they gone? Battered to death in a cellar, And he stuck to his throne. Last night I lay on the mountain. (Said Crazy Jane) There in a two-horsed carriage That on two wheels ran Great-bladdered Emer sat. Her violent man Cuchulain sat at her side; Thereupon Propped upon my two knees, I kissed a stone I lay stretched out in the dirt And I cried tears down.