University of Virginia Library

In holy dread they past away,
And they walked the ridge of that isle so gray,
And saw the white waves toil and fret,
An hundred fathoms below their feet;
They looked to the countless isles that lie
From Barra to Mull, and from Jura to Skye;
They looked to heaven, they looked to the main,
They looked at all with a silent pain,
As on places they were not to see again.