THE COUNTRY OF THE CAMISARDS[1]

We travelled in the print of olden wars; Yet all the land was green; And love we found, and peace, Where fire and war had been. They pass and smile, the children of the sword— No more the sword they wield; And O, how deep the corn Along the battlefield!

[1] From “Travels with a Donkey.”

XXXIV

SKERRYVORE

For love of lovely words, and for the sake Of those, my kinsmen and my countrymen, Who early and late in the windy ocean toiled To plant a star for seamen, where was then The surfy haunt of seals and cormorants: I, on the lintel of this cot, inscribe The name of a strong tower.
XXXV

SKERRYVORE

THE PARALLEL