The Pilgrim at Rome
Unto Rome wouldst thou attain,
Great the toil is, small the gain,
If the King thou seekest therein
Travel not, with thee, from Erin.
On a Dead Scholar
Dead is Lon
Of Kilgarrow,
O great sorrow!
Dead and gone.
Dire the dolour,
Erin, here and past thy border,
Dire the dolour and disorder,
To the schools and to the scholar,
Since our Lon
Is dead and gone.