Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/49

47 HE old man ceased, and in the pause,
 * We watched the smoke against the hill;

As in a dream he told his tale,
 * As in a dream we listened still.

His sea-blue eyes though dimmed by years
 * Saw far beyond our time and space,

And child-like faith in unseen things
 * Had smoothed the furrows in his face.

His simple creed–to do his best
 * As guardian of that treasured pile,

Whose ancient towers and ruined choirs
 * Stand crowned about Peel's holy Isle.

And leaning on his staff he sat
 * Beside us in the sunny nook,

Embrasured by cathedral walls
 * Whose stones were all his sacred book.

Far off in haze we saw the Cronk
 * That frowns o'er Earey Cushlin's strand,

So far remote it seemed to be
 * As old tales told in fairy-land.