On the Shores of Longing 147

eyes became dim with the thought that per-
chance these wind-reddened mariners might
be steering for the shores of his longing.

The Prior of the convent noticed his sad-
ness and questioned him of the cause, and
when Bresal told him, “Why should you
go?” he asked. “Do you not love us any
longer?”

“Dearly do I love you, father,” replied
Bresal, “and dearly this house, and every
rock and tree and flower; but no son of the
Isle of the Gael forgets the little mother-lap
of earth whereon he was nursed, or the smell
of the burning peat, or the song of the robin,
or the drone of the big mottled wild bee, or
the cry of the wild geese when the winter is
nigh. Even Columba the holy pined for the
lack of these things. This is what he says
in one of the songs which he has left us:

There’s an eye of grey

Looks back to Erinn far away ;
Big tears wet that eye of grey
Seeking Erinn far away.

Now the Prior loved Bresal as Jonathan
loved David; and though it grieved him to
part with him, he resolved that if it could be