MAGNER’S TOWER

To take the air one evening fair by Cathragh’s banks I strayed,

In spring cold stream the crystal gleam and golden sunlight played.

The plaintive call of waterfowl proclaimed my presence there

And Magner’s Tower in its ivy bower looked out with a timeless air.

In cloister trees a gentle breeze bore lilt of blackbird’s call,

And wild bees drone from hives of stone high in then castle walls.

The fitting ghosts of antique hosts pervaded the glen serene

And Magner’s Tower in its ivy bower looked out on the peaceful scene.

Lord Arden’s bridge below the ridge enspanned the rover’s flow;

Astride the ford where haughty lord rode splashily to and fro.

Where Gaelic steel made Norman reel and reddened the Cathragh’s rill

Ere Magner’s tower in its ivy bowers looked out on green Ardoyne Hill.

The castle wall and sombre hall enshadowed the treelined sky

With rock-cleft base and buttress face to baffle the prying eye.

The stepping Stones were old men’s bones lapped white in dappled shade

And Magner’s Tower in its ivy bowers looked down on the sylvan glade.

Where river’s tide flows fast and wide and riffles the gravel bed,

By the votive shell of Bridget’s well I prayed for the time-lost dead.

The muted toll of a church bell stole over pastoral prospect fair.

And Magner’s Tower in its ivy bowers looked down for evening prayer.

The fretful sedge at water’s edge enjoined my homebound way.

Mid pungent press of watercress and mangrove mass display

To crystal stream and spectral dream I left that enchanted vale

And Magner’s Tower in its ivy bowers looking down on time’s sad travail.

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