RAHINANE

Wrapt in mist and washed with rain

Is the hill of Rahinane;

Compassed by the hosts of sleep

Is its keep.

Only shadows come and go;

Only wraiths flit to and fro;

And the bat, grotesque and blind,

And the wind.

Just a shard of shattered hope

On a barren Kerry slope;

Just a ruin in the rain,

Rahinane!