Every place has a name here.
They have names for the places between places
And the places between those.
When you've been on the same small island
For six thousand years or whatever,
You get around to naming almost everything
Like an overachieving Adam.
Thus, every hill and stream and mossy pond
Carries the ancestral burden of a name,
And some dark memory to go with it,
However faded by the feckless years.
There's something pagan about all of this
(Since having a name is like having a soul),
But that need not surprise us; after all,
This is the land where Patrick - wily man! -
Instead of screaming "All your gods are lies!"
Said "All your gods are my god, and this place
That you call holy, I hold holy too."
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