Sidhe's a Lady

I'm not sure why I decided to post this, but I just finished a major essay assignment on this old faery hag here, and I suppose I just feel like penning an elegiac funeral ode.
So anyway, here goes:

The Death of Queen Maeve
by Bibb Leo File

Her royal robes do drag on the stony palace floor;
O! Great Queen! To think you shall be pale forevermore!
Her mighty golden locks now have fallen into gray;
O! Strong Queen! To think they shall soon fade and rot away!

Go tend the dying Queen, she who totters on her feet,
Now, Old Queen, your revels share no more in wine or meat,
Go help the dying Queen, her gold crown has dropped to earth;
Now, Frail Queen, the young of Tír-na-nÓg will give you berth!

Sail west from green Connacht 'til you reach that happy shore,
There, Brave Queen, you'll find the key to Knocknarea's stone door;
And rise to join the dance as it spins across the sea,
Then, Bright Queen, you'll know what it is to rule the Sidhe!

Pronunciation Guide:
Maeve = Mayv
Tír-na-nÓg = Teer-nah-nohg (with a long 'o', as in 'No')
Connacht = Cuh-naut
Knocknarea = Knock-nuh-ray
Sidhe = Shee