Saga of the North: Celts in the North -

Celts in the North

Harps flutter the lamps of Tara,
Chariots smoke along the plain of Conal,
Saint Brandan sails west of Lyonesse,
Tintagel beholds Iseult weep,
In May young Launcelot finds Guinevere.
Coracles of saints creep northward,
Churches stretch their arms across the landscape,
The grail comes to Glastonbury,
And Arthur hides himself in Avalons of song.
With bells and vellum books and croziers,
Hermits take refuge in Iceland.
There in the lava caverns
Loud with the grinding voice of ocean,
They light their small Judean candles
To the droning intonation of forbidden hymns,
Gazing fearfully at the red beard of Thor,
Wagged bloodily along the northern Earth-rim.
Follow these stepping stones of islands
Across the boreal ocean,
Northern splinters of Scotland,
Orkneys, Faroes, Shetland,
Beyond that —