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From the Burren – 1928

Connacht Sentinel 10th January, 1928 p.4 No hint, no touch of grim utility, Earth’s busy functions sleep abandoned here; Corn-grower, root-grower, nourisher of grain, All are forgotten, nakedly austere. Nought but herself, her inmost core, survives, Stripped to the elements; enskyed and pure, Remote, and stern, and coldly sanctified; And therefore, Burren hills, to me … Continue reading

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