The poppies at Monasteraven,
And the cottage in the field.
[p 41]
]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;