Another of St. Enda's disciples was St. Finnian of Moville--and it was from Aran he set out on his pilgrimage to Rome. Soon after he returned to Ireland, bringing with him a copy of the Gospels, the Papal benediction, and the Canons of St. Finnian. Again departing for Italy, he was made Bishop of Lucca, in Italy, where he died in 588. [Sidenote: ST. COLUMBA.] St. Columba spent years in Aran, and deeply was he grieved at leaving it for Iona. His bitter lament in Irish verse has been translated into English metre by the late Sir Aubrey De Vere, Bart., in part as follows:-- 1. "Farewell to Aran isle, farewell! I steer for Hy; my heart is sore, The breakers burst, the billows swell, 'Twixt Aran's isle and Alba's shore. 2. "Thus spake the son of God, 'Depart!' Oh Aran isle, God's will be done! By angels thronged this hour thou art: I sit within my barque alone. 3. "Oh Modan, well for thee the while! Fair falls thy lot and well art thou, Thy seat is set in Aran isle, Eastward to Alba turns my prow. 4. "Oh Aran, sun of all the west! My heart is thine! as sweet to close Our dying eyes in thee as rest Where Peter and where Paul repose. 5. "Oh Aran, sun of all the west, My heart its grave hath found; He walks in regions of the blest, The man that hears thy church bells sound. 6. "Oh Aran blest--oh Aran blest! Accursed the man that loves not thee; The dead man cradled in thy breast No demon scares him--well is he."[4] [Sidenote: ST. FURSA.] Amongst the other ecclesiastical notabilities that frequented Aran in the sixth century was St. Fursa, whose life has been written by scores of writers, as well by the Venerable Bede as by Archbishop Usher, the greatest ornament of the Protestant Church in Ireland. The visions of Fursa were, we are informed by the Rev. J. Carey, in his admirable translation of Dante, the groundwork of the _Inferno_. The beautiful imagery of Fursa's fancy, which threw a charm over every subject that he handled, may be well illustrated by his rhapsodies on seeing for the first time the city of Rome, as staff in hand he wended his way to the Eternal City. Falling on his knees, with outstretched arms, he exclaimed, "Rome! oh, Rome! I hail thee, admirable by apostolic triumphs. Rome, decorated by the roses of the martyrs, whitened by the lilies of the confessors, crowned by the palms of the virgins, thou that containest the bones and relics of the saints, may thy authority never fade!"[5] Strange, is it not, that the first sight of the city of Rome should produce in the minds of men feelings which words almost fail to convey! [Sidenote: GIBBON.]