English poem
RAHINANE
by Clinton Scollard (1860–1932)
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!