Geoffrey Keating to His Letter

From The Cabinet of Irish Literature, Volume 1, edited by Charles A. Read (1880)

For the sake of the dear little Isle where I send you,
For those who will welcome, and speed, and befriend you;
For the green hills of Erin that still hold my heart there,
Though stain'd with the blood of the patriot and martyr,
My blessing attend' you!
My blessing attend you!

Adieu to her nobles, may honour ne'er fail them!
To her clergy adieu, may no false ones assail them!
Adieu to her people, adieu to her sages,
Her historians, and all that illumine their pages!
In distance I hail them,
More fondly I hail them!

Adieu to her plains all enamelled with flowers!
A thousand adieus to her hills and her bowers!
Adieu to the friendships and hearts long devoted!
Adieu to the lakes on whose bosom I've floated,
In youth's happy hours,
In youth's happy hours!

Adieu to her fish rivers murmuring through rushes!
Adieu to her meadows, her fields, wells, and bushes!
Adieu to her lawns, her moors, and her harbours;
Adieu from my heart, to her forests and arbours,
All vocal with thrushes,
All vocal with thrushes!

Adieu to her harvests, for ever increasing!
And her hills of assemblies, all wisdom possessing!
And her people--oh! where is there braver or better?
Then go to the Island of Saints, my dear letter!
And bring her my blessing,
And bring her my blessing!

(From a translation by John D'Alton in Hardiman's Irish Minstrelsy).