Sir, – I was shocked on a return pilgrimage to Oliver Goldsmith’s Lissoy parsonage to see how the structure has deteriorated over the past half a century. Goldsmith spent his formative years here. His most famous poem resounds with the sights and sounds and characters of this unassuming midlands area.
Stones seemingly stand in mid-air with little to support them. Should one apparently floating boulder collapse, it would irreparably damage the last remaining window frame. While awaiting proper restoration, even some pointing work would protect from the forthcoming frosts. But unless something is done soon, the remaining walls will crumble to the ground.
A lamentable disrespect to the man whose poems moved millions and writers as diverse as Samuel Johnson and James Joyce. I hope he would forgive the parody – Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates and sacred sites decay. – Yours, etc,
BRENDAN LYNCH,
Mountjoy Street,
Dublin 7.