Ian Stewart Black

Modern master of classical poetry

Month: July, 2014

Set In Stone

A footfall from the ravages
Of covetous society;
A leap or bound or glorious
Ascent into the bountiful;
One single step beyond the grey
Our fathers rung around our necks
Into a gleaming emerald:
A haven set in soulless steel.

Where waves of our immortal earth
Lie slumbering in slow crusade;
Innumerable rays of light
Descend into the verdant realm
On one such timeless pilgrimage;
And we who still remember pay
Our homage to the vital shrine:
The kiss of nature on our brow.

In reverence of those most rare
And precious acres still untouched
By man’s uncivilised design;
In love of truest origin,
We bid our primal spirits roam
The only country we call home:
The brook and bough more dear to us
Than any bauble of our youth.

And set in one immortal stone
Without the crutch of mortal tongue,
Inscribed into the ageless rock;
Dispelling shadows from our minds
In wordless whispers from the wind,
The earth in perfect slumber speaks:
Let all who live abide in peace,
For life is sacred to us all.



So comes the hour.
The godless stoop to pray,
And devils answer – their congregation veils
The sun; the day is night, and heroes cower.
Champions are slain; the bravest men are prey.
The last remaining hopes of our salvation fail
To hold, and monarchs quake for want of power.
Few survivors stagger from the bloodied fray,
And those who do, pursued; weary souls of pale
Complexion slouch toward the standing tower.
We exhausted remnants shudder in our grey
Asylum, hounded by the diabolic wails;
We are weak and feeble men.
So comes the hour.