Selections from Ancient Irish Poetry/On the Flightiness of Thought

ON THE FLIGHTINESS OF THOUGHT

Shame to my thoughts, how they stray from
me!
I fear great danger from it on the day of eternal
Doom.

During the psalms they wander on a path that is
not right:
They fash, they fret, they misbehave before the
eyes of great God.

Through eager crowds, through companies of
wanton women,
Through woods, through cities—swifter they are
than the wind.

Now through paths of loveliness, anon of riotous
shame!

Without a ferry or ever missing a step they go
across every sea:
Swiftly they leap in one bound from earth to
heaven.

They run a race of folly anear and afar:
After a course of giddiness they return to their
home.

Though one should try to bind them or put
shackles on their feet,
They are neither constant nor mindful to take a
spell of rest.

Neither sword-edge nor crack of whip will keep
them down strongly:
As slippery as an eel's tail they glide out of my
grasp.

Neither lock nor firm-vaulted dungeon nor any
fetter on earth,
Stronghold nor sea nor bleak fastness restrains
them from their course.

O beloved truly chaste Christ to whom every eye
is clear,
May the grace of the seven-fold Spirit come to
keep them, to check them!

Rule this heart of mine, O dread God of the elements,
That Thou mayst be my love, that I may do Thy
will.

That I may reach Christ with His chosen companions,
that we may be together!
They are neither fickle nor inconstant—not as I am.