As they went, Far on their left there stretched a mighty land Of forest-girdled hills, mother of streams: Beyond it sank the day; while round the west Like giants thronged the great cloud-phantoms towered. Advancing, din they heard, and found in woods A hamlet and a field by war unscathed, And boys on all sides running. Placid sat The village Elders; neither lacked that hour The harp that gently tranquillises age, Yet wakes young hearts with musical unrest, Forerunner oft of love’s unrest. Ere long The measure changed to livelier: maid with maid Danced ’mid the dancing shadows of the trees, And youth with youth; till now, the strangers near, Those Elders welcomed them with act benign; And soon was slain the fatted kid, and soon The lamb; nor any asked till hunger’s rage Was quelled, “Who art thou?” Patrick made reply, “A Priest of God.” Then prayed they, “Offer thou To Him our sacrifice! Belike ’tis He Who saves from war this hamlet hid in woods: Unblest be he who finds it!” Thus they spake, The matrons, not the youths. In friendly talk The hours went by with laughter winged and tale; But when the moon, on rolling through the heavens, Showered through the leaves a dew of sprinkled light O’er the dark ground, the maidens garments brought Woven in their quiet homes when nights were long, Red cloak and kirtle green, and laid them soft, Still with the wearers’ blameless beauty warm, For coverlet upon the warm dry grass, Honouring the stranger guests. For these they deemed Their low-roofed cots too mean. Glad-hearted rose The Christian hymn, not timid: far it rang Above the woods. Ere long, their blissful rites Fulfilled, the wanderers laid them down and slept.
At midnight by the side of Patrick stood Victor, God’s Angel, saying, “Lo! thy work Hath favour found and thou ere long shalt die: Thus therefore saith the Lord, ‘So long as sea Girdeth this isle, so long thy name shall hang In splendour o’er it, like the stars of God.’” Then Patrick said, “A boon! I crave a boon!” The angel answered, “Speak;” and Patrick said, “Let them that with me toiled, or in the years To come shall toil, building o’er all this land The Fortress-Temple and great House of Christ, Equalled with me my name in Erin share.” And Victor answered, “Half thy prayer is thine; With thee shall they partake. Not less, thy name Higher than theirs shall rise, and wider spread, Since thus more plainly shall His glory shine Whose glory is His justice.”