University of Virginia Library


14

St Patrick returns to Ireland

Yet many a year must go before
His feet should touch the Irish shore.
He fought heresies black and grim;
Hewed the Evil One head and limb,
Loved the sinner, hated the sin;
And still the Voices called him between
The night and day, and would not cease.
The crying Voices gave him no peace.
Sixty years he had when at last
Pope Celestine bade him make haste
Over sea, over land, travelling fast,
To bring the Irish to Mary's Son.
Said Patrick: “Amen, God's Will be done,”
And landed at last by the river Nanny,
Of Irish rivers the least of any.
Though she be little, she shall be great,
Great her honour, proud her estate.
May nothing ever defile or pollute her,
May she harbour birds and fish and the otter;
May flowers fringe her, and trees shade her,
Nor aught of evil hurt or invade her;
Crystal waters o'er sands of gold,
So may she run till her tale be told!