"Knocknanuss the hill of sighs,
High cairn above a lovely tomb,
They named thee in a day of gloom
To women's wailing doleful cries".
Daughter and mother, maid and wife,
They came when wars red work was done,
Mourning for father, lover, son,
The gory swath of battle strife
Like spectres in the shadows moved,
Stooping to scan a pallid face,
Peering through scars and blood to trace,
The features of the men they loved
For I have told an aged old tale,
Long have both loved and lover slept,
And pulseless dust those eyes that wept,
And hearts that break in moan and wail.
Ah grief of love! Thou hast no power,
To match with death else those would rise,
And life leap back to glazed eyes,
And touch and cry of love that hour.
And oft in Autumn winds tis said,
When evening spreads her ebon screen,
One yet may hear the ghostly keen,
Of women waiting for their dead.
- Reverend P. Mackessy