Ancient Irish Poetry Part 5

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This is the husbandry I would take, I would choose, and will not hide it: Fragrant leek, hens, salmon, trout, bees.

Raiment and food enough for me from the King of fair fame, And I to be sitting for a while praying G.o.d in every place.

A PRAYER TO THE VIRGIN

Gentle Mary, n.o.ble maiden, give us help!

Shrine of our Lord's body, casket of the mysteries!



Queen of queens, pure holy maiden, Pray for us that our wretched transgression be forgiven for Thy sake.

Merciful one, forgiving one, with the grace of the Holy Spirit, Pray with us the true-judging King of the goodly ambrosial clan.

Branch of Jesse's tree in the beauteous hazel-wood, Pray for me until I obtain forgiveness of my foul sins.

Mary, splendid diadem, Thou that hast saved our race, Glorious n.o.ble torch, orchard of Kings!

Brilliant one, transplendent one, with the deed of pure chast.i.ty, Fair golden illumined ark, holy daughter from Heaven!

Mother of righteousness, Thou that excellest all else, Pray with me Thy first-born to save me on the day of Doom.

n.o.ble rare star, tree under blossom, Powerful choice lamp, sun that warmeth every one.

Ladder of the great track by which every saint ascends, Mayst Thou be our safeguard towards the glorious Kingdom.

Fair fragrant seat chosen by the King, The n.o.ble guest who was in Thy womb three times three months.

Glorious royal porch through which He was incarnated, The splendid chosen sun, Jesus, Son of the living G.o.d.

For the sake of the fair babe that was conceived in Thy womb, For the sake of the holy child that is High-King in every place,

For the sake of His cross that is higher than any cross, For the sake of His burial when He was buried in a stone-tomb,

For the sake of His resurrection when He arose before every one, For the sake of the holy household from every place to Doom,

Be Thou our safeguard in the Kingdom of the good Lord, That we may meet with dear Jesus--that is our prayer--hail!

EVE'S LAMENT

I am Eve, great Adam's wife, 'Tis I that outraged Jesus of old; 'Tis I that robbed my children of Heaven, By rights 'tis I that should have gone upon the cross.

I had a kingly house to please me, Grievous the evil choice that disgraced me, Grievous the wicked advice that withered me!

Alas! my hand is not pure.

'Tis I that plucked the apple, Which went across my gullet: So long as they endure in the light of day, So long women will not cease from folly.

There would be no ice in any place, There would be no glistening windy winter, There would be no h.e.l.l, there would be no sorrow, There would be no fear, if it were not for me.

ON THE FLIGHTINESS OF THOUGHT

Shame to my thoughts, how they stray from me!

I fear great danger from it on the day of eternal Doom.

During the psalms they wander on a path that is not right: They fash, they fret, they misbehave before the eyes of great G.o.d.

Through eager crowds, through companies of wanton women, Through woods, through cities--swifter they are than the wind.

Now through paths of loveliness, anon of riotous shame!

Without a ferry or ever missing a step they go across every sea: Swiftly they leap in one bound from earth to heaven.

They run a race of folly anear and afar: After a course of giddiness they return to their home.

Though one should try to bind them or put shackles on their feet, They are neither constant nor mindful to take a spell of rest.

Neither sword-edge nor crack of whip will keep them down strongly: As slippery as an eel's tail they glide out of my grasp.

Neither lock nor firm-vaulted dungeon nor any fetter on earth, Stronghold nor sea nor bleak fastness restrains them from their course.

O beloved truly chaste Christ to whom every eye is clear, May the grace of the seven-fold Spirit come to keep them, to check them!

Rule this heart of mine, O dread G.o.d of the elements, That Thou mayst be my love, that I may do Thy will.

That I may reach Christ with His chosen companions, that we may be together!

_They_ are neither fickle nor inconstant--not as I am.

TO CRINOG

Crinog, melodious is your song.

Though young no more you are still bashful.

We two grew up together in Niall's northern land, When we used to sleep together in tranquil slumber.

That was my age when you slept with me, O peerless lady of pleasant wisdom: A pure-hearted youth, lovely without a flaw, A gentle boy of seven sweet years.

Ancient Irish Poetry Part 5

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Ancient Irish Poetry Part 5 summary

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