“God thee bless, thou loved Iona.”

THE DEATH OF COLUMBA. Saxon stranger, thou did’st wisely, Sunder’d for a little space From that motley stream of people Drifting by this holy place; With the furnace and the funnel Through the long sea’s glancing arm, Let them hurry back to Oban, Where the tourist loves to swarm. Here, upon this hump of granite, […]

An Holy Hest

THE VOYAGE OF COLUMBA. I. “Son of Brendan, I have willed it; I will leave this land and go To a land of savage mountains, Where the Borean breezes blow; To a land of rainy torrents, And of barren, treeless isles, Where the winter frowns are lavish, And the summer scantly smiles; I will leave this land of […]