Where dwellers on the ancient wilds have sought
'Neath sheltering clefts a refuge and a home,
Coverts half-built, half-burrowed, they have wrought,
Closed in above with blocks to form a dome.[11]
When vivid lightning rends the towering rock,[12]
And earthquakes do the human heart appal,
When lurid flash vies with convulsive shock,
The mighty landslip thunders to its fall!
And while around the rocks of hill and dale
Cling weird traditions of the dead and lost,
So also is there many a doleful tale
Haunting grim boulders on the frowning coast.[13]
Hard by the scenes where pagan hosts have striven,
And where their valiant chieftains fell, 'tis said,
Great mounds are raised o'er slabs all roughly riven,
Which serve to guard the ashes of the dead.[14]
On Long Stones, set erect, brief words are traced,[15]
Names of the mighty, and their noble sires—
The memory of their deeds long since effaced!—
In dark oblivion their renown expires.
Some rude memorials bear the sacred sign
Which shews a Christian has been laid beneath;[16]
Nor need his relics any gilded shrine
While the fair wild-flowers gem his native heath.
Dotting the pilgrim-tracks across the moor
At the Three-turnings, churchyard, market-place,
Boulder-hewn symbols, carved in days of yore,
Did guide the erring, and proclaim God's grace.
W. I.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Luxulyan Boulders, &c.