At Cashel

ABOVE me stand, worn from their ancient use, The King's, the Bishop's, and the Warrior's house, Quiet as folds upon a grassy knoll: Stark-grey they stand, wall joined to ancient wall, Chapel, and Castle, and Cathedral. It is not they are old, but stone by stone Into another lifetime they have grown, The life of memories an old man has: They dream upon what things have come to pass, And know that stones grow friendly with the grass. The name has crumbled CASHEL that has come From conqueror-challenging CASTELLUM Walls m a name! No citadel is here, Now as a fane the empty walls uprear Where green and greener grass spreads far and near!