What is that curling flower of wonder
As white as snow, as red as blood?
When death goes by in flame and thunder
And rips the beauty from the bud.
 

They left his blossom, white and slender
Beneath Glasnevin's shaking sod;
His spirit passed like sunset splendour
Unto the dead Fiannas' God.
 

Good luck be with you, Michael Collins,
Or stay or go you far away;
Or stay you with the folk of fairy,
Or come with ghosts another day.

                                        -Sir Shane Leslie