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