 | Irish Poems |  |
98
THE CHRISTENING
O call the child from some kind saint
So quick to run and save,
Not Deirdre with the griefs acquaint,
Not Grania nor Maeve.
So quick to run and save,
Not Deirdre with the griefs acquaint,
Not Grania nor Maeve.
Not Daphne, Phœbe, Phyllis, Prue,
Nor any country Grace,
Lest that your gossips prove untrue
In some most bitter case.
Nor any country Grace,
Lest that your gossips prove untrue
In some most bitter case.
In heaven there stand, carnations fair
Beside our dear Lord's knee.
Margaret, Catherine, Magdalen, Clare,
Dorothy, Cecily.
Beside our dear Lord's knee.
Margaret, Catherine, Magdalen, Clare,
Dorothy, Cecily.
And all day long in the still place
Their haloes fall and rise,
Their faces turned to the one Face,
The glory on their eyes.
Their haloes fall and rise,
Their faces turned to the one Face,
The glory on their eyes.
99
Or give the chrisomed child to keep
To Mary of the Swords:
The heart that held God's Son asleep
Is soft to babes and birds.
To Mary of the Swords:
The heart that held God's Son asleep
Is soft to babes and birds.
The world is set with many a snare
Where evil things affright.
Give her a name that she may wear
Like armour in God's sight.
Where evil things affright.
Give her a name that she may wear
Like armour in God's sight.
Give to her little stumbling feet
A help most sure and kind,
That when she cries a foot so fleet
Run to her like the wind.
A help most sure and kind,
That when she cries a foot so fleet
Run to her like the wind.
Give her a name that frights God's foes,
The name one bears who is
In God's rose-garden a tall rose
Among the white lilies.
The name one bears who is
In God's rose-garden a tall rose
Among the white lilies.
Give her a friend who will not fail,
Who walks in white so brave.
Not Deirdre of the Sorrows pale
Nor Grania, nor Maeve.
Who walks in white so brave.
Not Deirdre of the Sorrows pale
Nor Grania, nor Maeve.
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