Read a great poem this morning – ‘The Ballad of Father Gillian’ by Yeats. I love the language in it.
It’s a poem about an old Irish Priest who is tired because much of his flock is dying from famine. He is weary from all the death. The priest is called in the wee hours to go to the bedside of a dying man, but falls asleep before he goes. He later wakes up and rushes to the house, only to find the man had already died. But instead of being discouraged or angry at himself for this, he takes it as a blessing from God. God knew he couldn’t handle any more death. God saw the priest…
This is the way the poem ends…
‘He Who hath made the night of stars
For souls who tire and bleed,
Sent one of His 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.’