The old priest Peter Gilligan
Was weary night and day
For half his flock were in their beds
Or under green sods lay.
Once, while he nodded in a chair
At the moth-hour of the eve
Another poor man sent for him,
And he began to grieve.
'I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace,
For people die and die;
And after cried he, 'God forgive!
My body spake not I!'
He knelt, and leaning on the chair
He prayed and fell asleep;
And the moth-hour went from the fields,
And stars began to peep.
They slowly into millions grew,
And leaves shook in the wind
And God covered the world with shade
And whispered to mankind.
Upon the time of sparrow chirp
When the moths came once more,
The old priest Peter Gilligan
Stood upright on the floor.
'Mavrone, mavrone! The man has died
While I slept in the chair.'
He roused his horse out of its sleep
And rode with little care.
He rode now as he never rode,
By rocky lane and fen;
The sick man's wife opened the door,
'Father! you come again!'
'And is the poor man dead?' he cried
'He died an hour ago.'
The old priest Peter Gilligan
In grief swayed to and fro.
'When you were gone, he turned and died,
As merry as a bird.'
The old priest Peter Gilligan
He knelt him at that word.
'He Who hath made the night of stars
For souls who tire and bleed,
Sent one of this great angels down,
To help me in my need.
'He Who is wrapped in purple robes,
With planets in His care
Had pity on the least of things
Asleep upon a chair.'
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The Ballad of Father Gilligan
From guest Patti an Irishwoman (contact)
I love this poem,it always brings tears to my eyes. Its packed with emotion for me for many reasons, association with time and place, that time in life when beginning to leave childhood behind. I recite the entire poem, and parts of it often. Fond memories of my own youth taught by the Presentation nuns Muinebheag. What a gift to pass to a child no matter how reluctant this child was to learn. I am deeply grateful. -
From guest Vividh Pawaskar (contact)
Intention and not action seems to be more important. The old priest never did intend to fail in his duties. It was his body that did not respond to the call of duty when it was asked to. But the fact that he rode with little care shows the genuineness of the desire of the priest to do his duty.-Vividh -
I love 'moth-hour', but find the rhyme off-putting.
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Nice work...
From guest Englishman (contact)
The man did not die without his last rites. When the sick man's wife opened the door and said 'Father! You come again?'... I noticed something. He had not been there before so what was the wife saying.? the answer lies in the fact that yeats put in a sentence about an angel helping him. God had sent an apparition of Father gilligan in the night. And Gilligan thanked him in the last stanza. One more thing.... I'm 12 years old, and you guys are old...come on!!! what did you learn in English class??? No offense.
MOD MESSAGE
No offence taken. It is nice to see an English"man" giving the meaning of this Irish poem. -
memories
From guest tom cantwell (contact)
how lovely to read this poem again, now in my 75th. year it brings back lovely memories of schoolodays at St Johns, kilkenny, irland. -
The poor man seemed to have died happily without the administration of the last rites. It is the poor priest whois inmortal conflict at his derilitionof duty. A case of the flesh being willing but the spirit weak in this converse.
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I remember this poem from childhood and the comedy/pathos we felt not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the plight of the poor priest who kept nodding off, or the old people who had to die without the last rites.
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