By: Hillaire Belloc
Heretics all, whoever you may be,
In Tarbes or Nimes, or over the sea,
You never shall have good words from me.
Caritas non conturbat me.
But Catholic men that live upon wine
Are deep in the water, and frank, and
fine;
Wherever I travel I find it so,
Benedicamus Domino.
On childing women that are forelorn,
And men that sweat in nothing but scorn:
That is on all that ever were born,
Miserere Domine.
To my poor self on my deathbed,
And all my dear companions dead,
Because of the love that I bore them,
Dona Eis Requiem.
Hi Rita,
ReplyDeleteHere is another good poem from the back of a holy card someone sent me. I especially like it since, God willing, I will soon be going to Ireland myself!
I'm not too sure, but I think I may have heard it once sung as a hymn.
Hail, Glorious St. Patrick
Hail, glorious St. Patrick! We honour thy name,
Tho' Erin may claim thee, the world knows thy fame.
The faith of our fathers is our treasure too,
How holy the thought, that they learnt it from you.
Thru crosses and trials its fires burn bright,
They show us the way, and the truth, and the light.
Great Saint! intercede, that we always may be
Devoted and loyal, true children of thee.
Our love and devotion be ever like thine,
Our thought be of Jesus, our heart be His shrine.
And when to the end of life's path we have trod,
Be near us great Bishop, Anointed of God.
God bless, and keep up your good work!
Hannah
Thanks for sharing the poem, Hannah!
ReplyDeleteIt is very inspiring!
Keep fighting and may God bless you!
Rita :-)