“Dona ei Domine,” The loud response-note rings. He comes! he comes! the victor! We’ll welcome him with song; Another Saint now perfect, To Bardsey doth belong! The dread Pelagian heresy He trampled from our land, {27} And drove the Druid’s tyranny From Cambria’s noble strand. He joined his Alleluia With countless thousands more, And drove the heathen foemen, The Holy Cross before. “Now that thou reign’st with Jesus, A glorious Saint above, O pray, dear St. Dubritius, For the island of thy love!” The Abbey Church was glistening With incense, lights, and gold, The organ’s peal of welcome, Through aisle and choir rolled. The hooded Monks are bearing Slowly the bier along, The choristers are chanting A glad triumphant song. “Rest for thy toil is o’er, The battle’s shout no more Shall break thy spirit’s calm, Or mar thy peaceful Psalm; Of praise to Christ the King, Whose beauty thou shalt sing, Throughout the ages long, In one unbroken song. For ever, and for aye, In everlasting Day.” * * * * * The lichens and the ivy Are creeping up the wall, And growing round the casements, And o’er the towers tall. The Abbey hath grown hoary, With centuries of age, St. Mary’s Abbey stories In many an ancient page. And yet her grand old praise notes Linger in her choir, For of the praise of Jesus, Her Monks can never tire. Now round the hallowed precincts Saint’s ashes crowd her sod, Here thousands, and ten thousands Have passed away to God. {30} Men call the Holy Island “The Gate of Paradise,” And crowd her shores with pilgrims, Who offer Sacrifice, In Holy Eucharist, and tears, And penance for their sin, And pray that through sweet Jesus God’s pardon they may win. A pilgrimage to Bardsey, If faithfully _twice_ made, Brings blessings all as gracious, As if to Rome _once_ paid. So thought the Faithful in that day, Of Bardsey’s Sacred Isle, And sought her weal devoutly, For Jesu’s sake the while. * * * * *