The master from his sleep.” But Patrick woke, And saw the boy, and said, “Forbid him not; The heir of all my kingdom is this child.” Then spake the brethren, “Wilt thou walk with us?” And he, “I will:” and so for his sweet face They called his name Benignus: and the boy Thenceforth was Christ’s. Beneath his parent’s roof At night they housed. Nowhere that child would sleep Except at Patrick’s feet. Till Patrick’s death Unchanged to him he clave, and after reigned The second at Ardmacha. Day by day They held their course; ere long the hills of Mourne Loomed through sea-mist: Ulidian summits next Before them rose: but nearer at their left Inland with westward channel wound the wave Changed to sea-lake. Nine miles with chant and hymn They tracked the gold path of the sinking sun; Then southward ran ’twixt headland and green isle And landed. Dewy pastures sunset-dazed, At leisure paced by mild-eyed milk-white kine Smiled them a welcome. Onward moved in sight Swiftly, with shadow far before him cast, Dichu, that region’s lord, a martial man And merry, and a speaker of the truth. Pirates he deemed them first and toward them faced With wolf-hounds twain that watched their master’s eye To spring, or not to spring. The imperious face Forbidding not, they sprang; but Patrick raised His hand, and stone-like crouched they chained and still: Then, Dichu onward striding fierce, the Saint Between them signed the Cross; and lo, the sword Froze in his hand, and Dichu stood like stone. The amazement past, he prayed the man of God To grace his house; and, side by side, a mile They clomb the hills. Ascending, Patrick turned, His heart with prescience filled. Beneath, there lay A gleaming strait; beyond, a dim vast plain With many an inlet pierced: a golden marge Girdled the water-tongues with flag and reed; But, farther off, a gentle sea-mist changed The fair green flats to purple. “Night comes on;” Thus Dichu spake, and waited. Patrick then Advanced once more, and Sabhall soon was reached, A castle half, half barn. There garnered lay Much grain, and sun-imbrowned: and Patrick said, “Here where the earthly grain was stored for man The bread of angels man shall eat one day.” And Patrick loved that place, and Patrick said, “King Dichu, give thou to the poor that grain, To Christ, our Lord, thy barn.” The strong man stood In doubt; but prayers of little orphaned babes Reared by his hand, went up for him that hour: Therefore that barn he ceded, and to Christ By Patrick was baptised. Where lay the corn A convent later rose. There dwelt he oft; And ’neath its roof more late the stranger sat, Exile, or kingdom-wearied king, or bard, That haply blind in age, yet tempest-rocked By memories of departed glories, drew