04.10.2008, 12:55
The Druid Stone near Millbeck, Seascale
Thy lips are dump, thy sisters in the grave,
But thou, sole witness of a god unknown -
Dercetis, Bel, or Dagon - still dost own
Possession of the secrets that we crave.
To thee the fisher sought, and huntsman brave,
When moorlands heard the horn at sunrise blown;
By thee, when Mona's altar fires were shown,
The lamp was lit that flashed on yonder wave.
If Seascale's copse and oaks of Drigg have waned,
And pearls no longer at thy feet are laid,
From Esk and Duddon by the votary brought;
Still to thy stone of help is reverence chained,
With sense of lonely watching, and the thought
Of silent faith - here vows anew are made.
Thy lips are dump, thy sisters in the grave,
But thou, sole witness of a god unknown -
Dercetis, Bel, or Dagon - still dost own
Possession of the secrets that we crave.
To thee the fisher sought, and huntsman brave,
When moorlands heard the horn at sunrise blown;
By thee, when Mona's altar fires were shown,
The lamp was lit that flashed on yonder wave.
If Seascale's copse and oaks of Drigg have waned,
And pearls no longer at thy feet are laid,
From Esk and Duddon by the votary brought;
Still to thy stone of help is reverence chained,
With sense of lonely watching, and the thought
Of silent faith - here vows anew are made.