Ere pilgrims forbear on that journey to start.
It is not for Nature they go to the scene,
However romantic, sublime, or serene;
’Tis not just for pleasure or holiday’s sake,
They pay sixpence each to be row’d o’er the lake.
’Tis that Patrick the Great made a station for pray’r
With chapels and cells purgatorial there,
’Twas his own blessed crozier that hallowed the cave,
The heathen to vanquish, the faithful to save.
Sweet Isle of Lough Dearg! by thy devotees blest,