This one is rather off-topic, but I thought the few Morgan fans here might appreciate it. Actually, given how bleak it is, I'm not sure if appreciate is really the right word. (The British tourist board will probably hate me. So, err, come to sunny Dorset where we don't yet have foot and mouth disease)
Lament by Judith Proctor
The tune is Shanagolden, also used for 'I Gave My Love a Cherry'.
There are hills and farms in England, In Scotland, Ireland, Wales, And death hangs heavy o'er them, As foot and mouth comes to the vales.
CHORUS For the funeral pyres are burning, And the black smoke fills the sky, And your ghost will never leave me, And your memory never die.
Oh, Morgan, son of Owen, Will your soul be ever free, You once were bound to Blainau, But now you're haunting me.
I see you in each farmer, Who stands in quiet despair, Your face haunts every image, And it's more than I can bear.
The suicide no rest finds, For his spirit can't move on, How many more will join you Before this plague is done?
(Blainau is pronounced bly-knee)