The Hibernian Song
To all Irish Catholics that have survived
All the seas of good Brendan
covered are in the mist,
reaching out for the shamrock
with the gloved iron fist.
Ancient masks fell upon me
and my eyes could not see,
feel the wind of true freedom,
blind I started to flee.
Chased by old snakes of darkness
going back to reclaim
the green chasuble of Ireland
where the Holy Ghost came.
Running down, running upward
like a dumb, frightened flock
till I broke all the terrors
on the lone solid rock.
It was outlawed by wizards,
idols new with their stings,
but it was to serve Heaven
not unclean earthly things.
It was aged and unstylish
like the crooked Patrick’s rod,
but it was to crush serpents
by the same living God.
I was feeble too often
and too reckless to care,
but I have been at gCarraig
and I saw my love there.
(20/06/2021)
03:34