Classic Poem

(The Angel speaks)

" That thou sought'st
Shall not lack consummation. Many a race,
Shrivelling in sunshine of its prosperous years,
Shall cease from faith, and, shamed though shameless, sink
Back to its native clay; but over thine
God shall extend the shadow of His hand,
And through the night of centuries teach to her
In woe that song which, when the nations wake,
Shall sound their glad deliverance; nor alone
This nation, from the blind dividual dust
Of instincts brute, thoughts driftless, warring wills,
By thee evoked and shapen by thy hands
To God's fair image which confers alone
Manhood on nations, shall to God stand true;
But nations far in undiscovered seas
Shall wear the kingly ermine of her faith,
Fleece uncorrupted of the Immaculate Lamb,
For ever lands remote shall raise to God
Her fanes; and eagle-nurturing isles hold fast
Her hermit cells: thy nation shall not walk
Accordant with the Gentiles of this world,
But as a race elect sustain the crown
Or bear the cross: and when the end is come
When in God's mount the twelve great thrones are set,
And round it roll the rivers four of fire,
And in their circuit meet the people three
Of heaven and earth and hell, fulfilled that day
Shall be the Saviour's word, what time He stretched
Thy crozier staff forth from His glory-cloud
And sware to thee, " When they that with Me walked,
Sit with Me on their everlasting thrones
Judging the twelve tribes of Mine Israel,
Thy people thou shalt judge in righteousness.
Thou therefore kneel, and bless thy land of Eire. "

Then Patrick knelt, and blessed the land and said,
" Praise be to God who hears the sinner's prayer. "