| After breakfasting with our friends near
Bruff, we started for Kilmallock, and passed
several delightful hours wandering over its
interesting ruins. I thought of some lines by
Crofton Croker, on Kilmallock—
<br>
<br>"THE BALBEC OF IRELAND." <br>
<br>When first I saw Kilmallock's walls,
<br>'Twas in the stillness of moon-light;
<br>And lofty towers and stately halls,
<br>Frowned darkly then enwrapped in night, <br>Just touched with tinsel, streaks and gleams,
<br>Mysterious, as a town of dreams
<br>
<br>But morning with its rosy sky
<br>Dispelled this visionary pride; <br>All greatness did in ruin lie,
<br>Mean hovels stood on every side;
<br>The peasant held the lordly pile, <br>And cattle filled the roofless aisle.
<br>
<br>Kilmallock in the pensive mind
<br>Awakens many a solemn thought;
<br>There will the heart this lesson find—
<br>[p. 241] That human strength and power are nought, <br>
To-day a boast—to-morrow gone!
<br>A moral deep to muse upon. <br>[Vol. 2, p. 240-241]<br>[Followed by very full account of the history of Kilmallock] |
