Poem by Clinton Scollard

The Glen of Castlemaine

Oh, the shadows they lie deep in the glen of Castlemaine,
Purple as the gulfs of sleep, gray as are the drifts of rain!
Here are eerie feet that creep when the moon is on the wane.

In the glen of Castlemaine there are eldritch tongues that call;
And the little leaves have words that will hold the heart in thrall.
In the glen of Castlemaine there ’s a glamour over all.

For the fays have cast their spell o’er the glen of Castlemaine;
There is brooding wonder there, but no dream of blight or bane;
Here, if you have loved and lost, you may find your love again!

1. Off Connemara
2. At Monaree
3. Heather Song
4. Back to Killarney
5. Cupid and the Shepherd

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