The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere

Within Saint Peter's fane, that kindly hearth
Where exiles crowned their earthly loads down cast,
The Scottish Kings repose, their wanderings past
In death more royal thrice than in their birth.

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Near them, within a church of narrower girth
But, like it, with dilated memories vast,
Sad Ulster's Princes find their rest at last
Their home the holiest spot, save one, on earth.
This is that Mount which saw Saint Peter die!
Where stands yon dome stood once that Cross reversed:
On this dread Hill, a Western Calvary,
The Empire and that Synagogue accurst
Clashed two ensanguined hands—like Cain—in one.
Sleep where the Apostle slept, Tirconnel and Tyrone!

University of Virginia Library

XIV. THE GRAVES OF TIRCONNEL AND TYRONE ON SAN PIETRO, IN MONTORIO.