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Poems MacCarthy, Florence Denis

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91<br />

This, which it is to be presumed was the great gulf-stream, brought his<br />

vessel to shore somewhere about the Virginian capes, or where the<br />

American coast tends eastward, and forms the New England States. Here<br />

landing, he and his companions marched steadily into the interior for<br />

fifteen days, and then came to a large river, flowing from east to west:<br />

this, evidently, was the river Ohio. And this the holy adventurer was<br />

about to cross, when he was accosted by a person of noble presence--but<br />

whether a real or visionary man does not appear--who told him he had<br />

gone far enough; that further discoveries were reserved for other men,<br />

who would, in due time, come and Christianise all that pleasant land.<br />

It is said he remained seven years away, and returned to set up a<br />

college of three thousand monks, at Clonfert.--"Caesar Otway's Sketches<br />

in Erris and Tyrawley," note, pp. 98, 99.]<br />

THE VOCATION.<br />

[When St. Brendan was an infant, says Colgan, he was placed under the<br />

care of St. Ita, and remained with her five years, after which period he<br />

was led away by Bishop Ercus in order to receive from him the more solid<br />

instruction necessary for his advancing years. Brendan always retained<br />

the greatest respect and affection for his foster-mother, and he is<br />

represented, after his seven years' voyage, amusing St. Ita with an<br />

account of his adventures in the ocean.]<br />

O Ita, mother of my heart and mind--<br />

My nourisher, my fosterer, my friend,<br />

Who taught me first to God's great will resigned,<br />

Before his shining altar-steps to bend;<br />

Who poured his word upon my soul like balm,<br />

And on mine eyes what pious fancy paints--<br />

And on mine ear the sweetly swelling psalm,<br />

And all the sacred knowledge of the saints;<br />

To whom but thee, dear mother, should be told<br />

Of all the wonders I have seen afar?--<br />

Islands more green and suns of brighter gold<br />

Than this dear land or yonder blazing star;<br />

Of hills that bear the fruit-trees on their tops,<br />

And seas that dimple with eternal smiles;<br />

Of airs from heaven that fan the golden crops,

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