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O king of stars that watch the night! Whether my house be dark or bright, Its door to none shall barréd be, Lest Christ should close his house to me. And if thy house shall hold a guest, And aught from him thou hast suppressed, Not all to him the wrong is done: Thou hast concealed from Mary's Son. |
THE STUDENT
From the Irish, Seventh to Tenth Century
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High on my hedge of bush and tree A blackbird sings his song to me, And far above my linéd book I hear the voice of wren and rook. From the bush-top, in garb of grey, The cuckoo calls the hours of day. Right well do I—God send me good!— Set down my thoughts within the wood. |
AT A HOLY WELL
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He dragged his knees from flag to flag, And prayed for health with awe-struck brow, Then hung his ill's discarded rag On the o'erhanging hawthorn bough. And in the adoring hush that fell, I, from the form set inly free, Knelt at my heart's most holy well And worshipped mine own mystery. Templemanaghan, Kerry. |