We heard the thrushes by the shore and sea, <br />And saw the golden star's nativity, <br />Then round we went the lane by Thomas Flynn, <br />Across the church where bones lie out and in; <br />And there I asked beneath a lonely cloud <br />Of strange delight, with one bird singing loud, <br />What change you'd wrought in graveyard, rock and sea, <br />This new wild paradise to wake for me. . . . <br />Yet knew no more than knew those merry sins <br />Had built this stack of thigh-bones, jaws and shins.<br /><br />John Millington Synge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-kerry/
