And we came in an evil time to the Isle of the Double Towers,One was of smooth-cut stone, one carved all over with flowers,But an earthquake always moved in the hollows under the dells,And they shock’d on each other and butted each other with clashing of bells,And the daws flew out of the Towers, and jangled and wrangled in vain,And the clash and boom of the bells rang into the heart and brain,Till the passion of battle was on us, and all took sides with the Towers,There were some for the clean-cut stone, there were more for the carven flowers,And the wrathful thunder of God peal’d over us all the day,For the one half slew the other, and, after, we sail’d away.And we came to the Isle of a Saint, who had sail’d with St. Brendan of yore,He had lived ever since on the isle, and his winters were fifteen score,And his voice was low as from other worlds, and his eyes were sweet,And his white hair sank to his heels, and his white beard fell to his feet,And he spake to me, “Oh, Maeldune, let be this purpose of thine!Remember the words of the Lord, when He told us ‘Vengeance is Mine!’His fathers have slain thy fathers, in war or in single strife,Thy fathers have slain his fathers, each taken a life for a life,Thy father had slain his father, how long shall the murder last?Go back to the Isle of Finn and suffer the Past to be Past.â€And we kiss’d the fringe of his beard, and we pray’d as we heard him pray,And the Holy Man he assoil’d us, and sadly we sail’d away.And we came to the Isle we were blown from, and there on the shore was he,The man that had slain my father. I saw him, and let him be.Oh, weary was I of the travel, the trouble, the strife, and the sin,When I landed again with a tithe of my men on the Island of Finn.Alfred Tennyson.
And we came in an evil time to the Isle of the Double Towers,One was of smooth-cut stone, one carved all over with flowers,But an earthquake always moved in the hollows under the dells,And they shock’d on each other and butted each other with clashing of bells,And the daws flew out of the Towers, and jangled and wrangled in vain,And the clash and boom of the bells rang into the heart and brain,Till the passion of battle was on us, and all took sides with the Towers,There were some for the clean-cut stone, there were more for the carven flowers,And the wrathful thunder of God peal’d over us all the day,For the one half slew the other, and, after, we sail’d away.And we came to the Isle of a Saint, who had sail’d with St. Brendan of yore,He had lived ever since on the isle, and his winters were fifteen score,And his voice was low as from other worlds, and his eyes were sweet,And his white hair sank to his heels, and his white beard fell to his feet,And he spake to me, “Oh, Maeldune, let be this purpose of thine!Remember the words of the Lord, when He told us ‘Vengeance is Mine!’His fathers have slain thy fathers, in war or in single strife,Thy fathers have slain his fathers, each taken a life for a life,Thy father had slain his father, how long shall the murder last?Go back to the Isle of Finn and suffer the Past to be Past.â€And we kiss’d the fringe of his beard, and we pray’d as we heard him pray,And the Holy Man he assoil’d us, and sadly we sail’d away.And we came to the Isle we were blown from, and there on the shore was he,The man that had slain my father. I saw him, and let him be.Oh, weary was I of the travel, the trouble, the strife, and the sin,When I landed again with a tithe of my men on the Island of Finn.
Alfred Tennyson.
Leicester:Walter Watts & Co., Ltd.,Printers.
Footnotes:
[1]From “Hero Tales of Ireland.â€
[2]Stone fort or rampart or castle.
[3]Put it under Fairy influence.