The gray winds call o’er Carrowmore,
Call in the white of the dawn,
And the grasses sigh o’er Carrowmore
When the purple night draws on.
The cromlechs stand on Carrowmore
As they ‘ve stood since who can say;
And the thin wraiths flit o’er Carrowmore
Between the dusk and the day.
There’s never a hush on Carrowmore
Come autumn or come spring,
For, oh, the tongues of Carrowmore,
They are fain of whispering!
And over and over Carrowmore
‘T will be ever thus, meseems,–
Like the winnow of wings o’er Carrowmore
The surge of the tide of dreams!
(Clinton Scollard)
More Poetry from Clinton Scollard:
Clinton Scollard Poems based on Topics: Dreams, Spring- The Inn Of The Five Chimneys (Clinton Scollard Poems)
- The Vale Of Shadows (Clinton Scollard Poems)
- A Symphony Of The Sea (Clinton Scollard Poems)
- Sidney Godolphin (Clinton Scollard Poems)
- King Philip's Last Stand (Clinton Scollard Poems)
- Ballad Of Protestant's Leap (Clinton Scollard Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Dreams Poems, Spring PoemsBased on Keywords: wraiths, winnow, meseems, cromlechs, carrowmore
- Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 03 - Atomic Forms And Their Combinations (Lucretius Poems)
- The Celt's Paradise. Third Duan (John Banim Poems)
- Rhodon And Iris. Act III (Ralph Knevet Poems)
- The School Of The Heart. Lesson The Second. (Henry Alford Poems)
- An Anatomy Of The World... (John Donne Poems)