Stern Bradda with its crowning tower
Towards the north,
And guards this westward looking shore;
And none may tell
Who now gaze forth
What Bradda looked like without Milner’s stones
Erected on its brow.
Kione ny Garee, or the Garden Head
Leads to the south and rises to the Mull
Where met the Ancient Ones
Who are long dead,
And do not matter now;
Their urn of days with many sunsets full.
These stand inviolate, untouched by time,
Unshaken by the pounding seas.
But where man in his prime
Unbounded confidence and expertise
Thought to protect the harbour from the shocks
Of gales from the south west
With a colossal jetty, wind and wave
Conspired together, tossed the concrete blocks
As might a child his toys,
And with a fury manifest
Did so behave
That man was shaken from his conscious poise
And turned his thoughts instead,
Planning for guests to be well housed and fed !
Mona’s Herald 4.12.62