THE BLACK STONES OF IONA

Here on their knees men swore; the stones were black,

Black in the people's minds and words,yet they

Were at that time, as now, in colour grey.

But what is colour, if upon the rack

Of conscience souls are placed by deeds that lack

Concord with oaths? What differ night and day

Then, when before the Perjured on his way

Hell opens, and the heavens in vengeance crack

Above his head uplifted in vain prayer

To Saint, or Fiend,or to the Godhead whom

He had insulted — Peasant, King, or Thane?

Fly where the culprit may, guilt meets a doom;

And, from invisible worlds at need laid bare,

Come links for social order's awful chain.