Chapter I

The Abbot of Inisfalen 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 to 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.