A blessing on every wealth
Which is brought forth on their marches!
No one to be in want of help:
God's blessing upon Munster!
A blessing on their peaks,
On their bare flagstones,
A blessing on their glens,
A blessing on their ridges!
Like sand of sea under ships
Be the number of their hearths:
On slopes, on plains,
On mountain-sides, on peaks.
THE HERMIT'S SONG
I wish, O Son of the living God, O ancient, eternal King,
For a hidden little hut in the wilderness that it may be my dwelling.
An all-grey lithe little lark to be by its side,
A clear pool to wash away sins through the grace of the Holy Spirit.
Quite near, a beautiful wood around it on every side,
To nurse many-voiced birds, hiding it with its shelter.
A southern aspect for warmth, a little brook across its floor,
A choice land with many gracious gifts such as be good for every plant.