The Comrades Poems Old & New: By William Canton |
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At St. Gall, A.D. 850 |
 | The Comrades |  |
204
At St. Gall, A.D. 850
Without a slip, without a blot,
The monk transcribed with loving care
What treasured text it matters not,
Of homily or prayer.
The monk transcribed with loving care
What treasured text it matters not,
Of homily or prayer.
And as he toiled, with sudden thrill,
From bough of beech or spire of pine,
A blackbird with his golden bill
Fluted a strain divine.
From bough of beech or spire of pine,
A blackbird with his golden bill
Fluted a strain divine.
The busy fingers ceased to write;
But, while the blackbird sung,
The monk found rhymes for his delight
In Erin's witching tongue;
But, while the blackbird sung,
The monk found rhymes for his delight
In Erin's witching tongue;
205
And penned them thus, with starry look
And simple heart aglow,
Upon the margin of his book,
A thousand years ago:
And simple heart aglow,
Upon the margin of his book,
A thousand years ago:
“Great woods and high do ring me round:
Now, from my pages closely lined,
A blackbird with angelic sound
Distracts my gladdened mind.
Now, from my pages closely lined,
A blackbird with angelic sound
Distracts my gladdened mind.
“Most sweet he sings upon the tree,
Concealed among the leaves of green;
May God take equal joy in me—
So love me, too, unseen!”
Concealed among the leaves of green;
May God take equal joy in me—
So love me, too, unseen!”
| The Comrades | |