University of Virginia Library


26

The Children who called him to Ireland

In the Wood of Foclut he met two maidens.
Low their voices of tender cadence.
These were the daughters of the Chief Garan,
There were no damsels sweeter in Erin.
Their voices made music so soft
That Patrick stood as one in a croft
Hearing the blackbird sing in the dew
His exquisite numbers. Sudden he knew
These were the Voices he heard of old,
Bidding him bring the sheep to the fold,
Crying and calling across the wild.
He was like a mother that finds her child,
Long-lost. He gave them the Baptism blest,
And went away with his heart at rest.