|An excerpt from:
FROM JOHN O' GROAT'S TO LAND'S END OR 1372 MILES ON FOOT by Robert Naylor and John Naylor 1916.
"One of the poets has described them:
The heavy rocks of giant size
That o'er the land in circles rise.
Of which tradition may not tell,
Fit circles for the Wizard spell;
Seen far amidst the scowling storm
Seem each a tall and phantom form,
As hurrying vapours o'er them flee
Frowning in grim security,
While like a dread voice from the past
Around them moans the autumnal blast!"
Posted by stubob
20th May 2007ce