Classic Poem

The blessing of St. Columba's Isle —
isle that is blest already,
an island that lieth below Mull,
all held in fee by MacCailein;
a sacred place that hath been honoured
above many realms and regions,
and faithfully entertaineth every man
that cometh from any strange country.

Many a monarch is within the mound,
and many splendid noblemen also;
their beloved bodies, which were of comely form,
have been laid down beneath the sod;
for 'tis the latter end of every man
to crumble into mould and fine sand:
'tis my hope in Christ Who suffered,
that He provided peace unto their souls.

A thousand years and two hundred more
have passed since the first man did lay
the excellent foundation stone
in the basal course of the wall;
many an effigy remaineth there
and tombstones which are finely sculptured,
chiselled stone from ground to top;
and they made the whole strong and solid.

We had a lucid, eloquent discourse
from him who was in the pulpit yesterday;
and I heard all those who listened
pay tribute to the mouth that spoke it.
Now since St. Columba is deceased,
nor could by nature be immortal,
'tis gladness to the land of Mull
that Dugald is in place of Calum.