Here, where the road below Slieuwhallian’s flank

Runs out to join the highway heading south

From Peel, we find a church and ancient school,

Some cottages, a chapel, and a bank

Whereon the foxgloves wave their purple growth ;

Afar is seen the bulk of South Barrule ;

Seaward Peel Hill, crowned by a mountebank

With a tall tower that tells, with silent mouth,

A senseless exhibition of a fool.

Who will aspire above his peers to rank

Leaves, in his passing, for the world to see,

More salutary than his wasted life,

And cutting deeper than his flourished knife,

A monument to earthly vanity.


Mona’s Herald     9.5.61