The Purgatory of St. Patrick | Page 7

faith, the light
Of Christ's true religion granted
In the
sacred rite of baptism,
Which a mark indelibly stampeth
On the
soul, heaven's gate, as it
Is the sacrament first granted
By the
Church. My pious parents,
Having thus the debt exacted
From all
married people paid
By my birth, retired thereafter
To two separate

convents, where
In the purity and calmness
Of their chaste abodes
they lived,
Till the fatal line of darkness,
Ending life, was reached,
and they,
Fortified by every practice
Of the Catholic faith, in peace

Yielded up their souls in gladness,
Unto heaven their spirits giving,

Giving unto earth their ashes.
I, an orphan, then remained

Carefully and kindly guarded
By a very holy matron,
Underneath
whose rule I hardly
Had completed one brief lustrum --
Five short
years had scarce departed --
Five bright circles of the sun
Wheeling
round on golden axles,
Twelve high zodiac signs illuming
And one
earthly sphere, when happened
Through me an event that showed

God's omnipotence and marvels;
Since of weakest instruments
God
makes use of, to enhance his
Majesty the more, to show
That for
what men think the grandest
And most strange effects, to Him

Should alone the praise be granted.--
It so happened, and Heaven
knoweth
That it is not pride, but rather
Pure religious zeal, that men

Should know how the Lord hath acted,
Makes me tell it, that one
day
To my doors a blind man rambled,
Gormas was his name, who
said,
"God who sends me here commands thee
In His name to give
me sight;"
I, obedient to the mandate,
Made at once the sign of the
cross
On his sightless eyes, that started
Into life and light once more

From their state of utter darkness.
At another time when heaven,

Muffled in the thickest, blackest

Clouds, made war upon the world,

Hurling at it lightning lances
Of white snow, which fell so thickly

On a mountain, that soon after
They being melted by the sun,
So
filled up our streets and alleys,
So inundated our houses,
That amid
the wild waves stranded
They were ships of bricks and stones,

Barks of cement and of plaster.
Who before saw waves on mountains?

Who 'mid woods saw ships at anchor?
I the sign of the cross then
made
On the waters, and in accents,
In a tone of grave emotion,
In
God's name the waves commanded
To retire: they turned that
moment
And left dry the lands they ravaged.
Oh, great God! who
will not praise Thee?
Who will not confess Thee Master?--
Other
wonders I could tell you,
But my modesty throws shackles
On my

tongue, makes mute my voice,
And my lips seals up and fastens.
I
grew up, in fine, inclined
Less to arms than to the marvels

Knowledge can reveal: I gave me
Almost wholly up to master

Sacred Science, to the reading
Of the Lives of Saints, a practice

Which doth teach us faith, hope, zeal,
Charity and Christian manners.

In these studies thus immersed,
I one day approached the margin

Of the sea with some young friends,
Fellow-students and companions,

When a bark drew nigh, from which
Suddenly out-leaping landed

Armed men, fierce pirates they,
Who these seas, these islands,
ravaged;
We at once were captives made,
And in order not to
hazard
Losing us their prey, they sailed
Out to sea with swelling
canvas.
Of this daring pirate boat
Philip de Roqui was the captain,

In whose breast, for his destruction,
Pride, the poisonous weed,
was planted.
He the Irish seas and coast
Having thus for some days
ravaged,
Taking property and life,
Pillaging our homes and hamlets;

But myself alone reserved
To be offered as a vassal,
As a slave to
thee, O king!
In thy presence as he fancied.
Oh! how ignorant is
man,
When of God's wise laws regardless,
When, without
consulting Him,
He his future projects planneth!
Philip well, at sea
might say so;
Since to-day, in sight of land here,
Heaven the while
being all serene,
Mild the air, the water tranquil,
In an instant, in a
moment,
He beheld his proud hopes blasted.
In the hollow-breasted
waves
Roared the wind, the sea grew maddened,
Billows upon
billows rolled
Mountain high, and wildly dashed them
Wet against
the sun, as if
They its light would quench and darken.
The
poop-lantern of our ship
Seemed a comet most erratic --
Seemed a
moving exhalation,
Or a star from space outstarted;
At another time
it touched
The profoundest deep sea-caverns,
Or the treacherous
sands whereon
Ran the stately ship and parted.
Then the fatal waves
became
Monuments of alabaster,
Tombs of coral and of pearl.
I
(and why this boon was granted
Unto me by Heaven I know not,

Being so useless), with expanded
Arms, struck out, but not alone

My own life to save, nay rather
In the attempt to save this brave


Young man here, that life to barter;
For I know not by what secret

Instinct towards him I'm attracted;
And I think he yet will pay me

Back this debt with interest added.
Finally, through Heaven's great
pity
We at length have happily landed,
Where my misery may
expect it,
Or my better fate may grant it;
Since we are your slaves
and servants,
That being moved by our disasters,
That being
softened by our weeping,
Our sore plight may melt your hardness,

Our affliction force your kindness,
And our very pains command
you.***
[footnote] * The asonante in a -- e, or their vocal equivalents,
commences here, and is continued to the commencement of the speech
of Enius, when it changes to the asonante in e -- e, which is kept up
through the remainder of