When a small, remote, country Chapel on the south of the Island was preparing to hold its Second Centennial Anniversary I was asked to pen some lines in order to acknowledge the occasion.
Two or three things by way of explanation;
This Chapel is built on a raised mound with a heavy wooden hand rail leading up to it.
After the piece was written I was informed that boatmen off the south of the Island use the chapel as a navigation landmark.
Ira Sankey was an evangelist hymn writer who seemed to favour rousing, uplifting hymns.
See it glimmer in the distance like a tiny whitewashed jewel
Where we raise our hymns of worship on the slopes of South Barrule
Stepping through the ancient portal of that Chapel on the hill,
You are entering a time warp where the ages have stood still.
Two centuries have flown away, as flocks pass through this fold,
The families who now keep the Faith still bear the names of old.
Here you join with Congregations past, your Maker to extol.
Or bow your head in reverence, let His peace seep in your soul.
We tread a pure and basic path, not ritual, pomp and show,
The Blessed Truth, His simple life two thousand years ago.
That’s how the builders lived here when first a stone was laid.
Now for their sake we live it still, that’s how the debt is paid.
Changing times have come upon us, folks have moved away,
Farms can not now support the staff yet I have seen the day,
When every pew was taken, so we gathered by the rail,
To send the strains of Sankey drifting down on Silverdale.
Though an ancient country Chapel, it offers all you ever need,
To guide you on a path through life, to confirm your sacred creed
Sense the Fount of True Salvation, when its ambience you feel,
The embers of John Wesley’s fire still glow at Kerrowkeill.
David Kelly
David Kelly | Poetry & Short Stories 