The Abbot of Innisfallen by William Allingham

The Abbot of Innisfallen / awoke ere dawn of day; / Under the dewy green leaves / went he forth to pray. / The lake around his island / lay smooth and dark and deep, / And wrapt in a misty stillness / the mountains were all asleep. / Low kneel'd the Abbot Cormac / when the dawn was dim and gray; / The prayers of his holy office / he faithfully 'gan say. / Low kneel'd the Abbot Cormac / while the dawn was waxing red; / And for his sins' forgiveness / a solemn prayer he said: / Low kneel'd that holy Abbot / while the dawn was waxing clear; / And he pray'd with loving-kindness / for his convent-brethren dear. / Low kneel'd that blessed Abbot / while the dawn was waxing bright; / He pray'd a great prayer for Ireland, / he pray'd with all his might. / Low kneel'd that good old Father / while the sun began to dart; / He pray'd a prayer for all men, / he pray'd it from his heart. / His blissful soul was in Heaven, / tho' a breathing man was he; / He was out of time's dominion, / so far as the living may be.

The Abbot of Innisfallen / arose upon his feet; / He heard a small bird singing, / and O but it sung sweet! / It sung upon a holly-bush, / this little snow-white bird; / A song so full of gladness / he never before had heard. / It sung upon a hazel, / it sung upon a thorn; / He had never heard such music / since the hour that he was born. / It sung upon a sycamore, / it sung upon a briar; / To follow the song and hearken / this Abbot could never tire. / Till at last he well bethought him; / he might no longer stay; / So he bless'd the little white singing-bird, / and gladly went his way.