“The wild birds, flashing and whirling over the waters, were my only companions,” he said of Lake Sorell. “But I peopled the lonely scene with friends who were far away, and made it teem with memories and visions of the land of my birth. That lake became the lake of Killarney. An island in the center of the lake was changed to Innisfallen, the ruined cloister of the monks . . . the round towers . . .
