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64
The Valley of the Seven Churches.
When, passing greener vallies by,
Saint Keivin chose his last retreat,
Vale of the Monk, no vulgar eye
Found Glendaloch Religion's Seat.
Saint Keivin chose his last retreat,
Vale of the Monk, no vulgar eye
Found Glendaloch Religion's Seat.
For there the stern Enthusiast saw
The frowning wilderness he sought,
Hills that chastised the soul with awe,
Shades pregnant with celestial thought.
The frowning wilderness he sought,
Hills that chastised the soul with awe,
Shades pregnant with celestial thought.
Hearts from the world he thither drew;
And temples in the desart rose;
And, as on Gideon's fleece the dew,
Sunk on those hearts that blest repose.
And temples in the desart rose;
And, as on Gideon's fleece the dew,
Sunk on those hearts that blest repose.
Dim, lonely, melancholy vale,
How oft has tolled the Beadsman's knell,
Deepening thy mountains' hollow gale
And sullen waters heavy swell!
How oft has tolled the Beadsman's knell,
Deepening thy mountains' hollow gale
And sullen waters heavy swell!
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Even yet, amidst thy mellow gloom
Death, the presiding Genius, reigns;
He sits on Kingly Thuhal's tomb,
Or stalks among thy shattered fanes.
Death, the presiding Genius, reigns;
He sits on Kingly Thuhal's tomb,
Or stalks among thy shattered fanes.
More charm to nurse vain dreams of bliss
Though sweet Ovoca's banks supply,
Earth has no fitter space than this
For Sage to muse, or Saint to die.
Though sweet Ovoca's banks supply,
Earth has no fitter space than this
For Sage to muse, or Saint to die.
Ah what should gayer bowers avail?
Young dreamer, turn to Keivin's rock;
'Twere sweet to live in Avondale,
But good to die in Glendaloch!
Young dreamer, turn to Keivin's rock;
'Twere sweet to live in Avondale,
But good to die in Glendaloch!
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