“A sign!” the spent man whispered low, “a sign!”
And on the spot he raised a house to God.
[p 5]
]THE HILL OF MAEVE
I
This is the hill of Maeve, the queen,
A mighty bulwark of gray-green
Whereon was set, by hands unknown,
A rugged monument of stone.
The great winds mourn, and sobs the wave
Beneath the lichened cairn of Maeve.