Poem by Clinton Scollard

The Wonders

I dream of the ancient wonders, of the isle of Hy Brasail
That rides through the mists of Mayo, then fades like a fading sail;
I dream of the ancient wonders, but there ’s one that haunts me more,
’T is the faun-like grace of Moira upon Lough Corib’s shore.

I dream of the ancient wonders, of the wells of Death and Life,
Of the voices of the Forest that quell both hate and strife;
I dream of the ancient wonders, but greater than them all
Is the luring laugh of Moira when day ’s at evenfall.

I dream of the ancient wonders, of the Cross caught up in air,
Of the swan of sweet Feale Water that was a maiden fair;
I dream of the ancient wonders, but each fades in eclipse
At the lifted arms of Moira, and Moira’s lifted lips!

1. Autumn by the Sea
2. Back to Killarney
3. An Exile
4. Ballad of Protestant's Leap
5. A Rover

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