Away over four score years he has gone,
Far more than many men survive,
Yet regardless of the fleeting days,
We still would hope he had more to live.
But alas for man it is decreed,
All earthly ties he must lay aside,
And the history of all who ever lived,
Comes around at last to how they died.
So home to Creevlea he is brought,
‘Neath skies by scowling Winter dressed,
Those holy walls more sacred now,
Since he is joined here with the rest.
But that is not the end, I beg to say,
For one whose life leaves no cause to dread,
Can joyfully await the day,
When Creevlea resurrects it’s dead.
 
Terence O’ Gorman
(Creevlea is at Drumcliff Co. Sligo)