And ’mid chants, in churchly splendor,
Princely abbots were enrolled.
Tall Fitz Maurice with his crozier,
O’Clonarchy of Lismore,
They are less now than the osier
Swaying by the Cashen’s shore!
Only when the moon is hidden,
Only when the moor-winds rave,
Eerily arise unbidden
Ghostly transept, ghostly nave.