Voyage of St Brendan

tr. O’Donoghue, 1893

14. The Paradise of Delights

The Paradise of Delights

St. BRENDAN and his brethren, having received the blessing of the man of God, and having given mutually the kiss of peace in Christ, sailed away towards the south during Lent, and the boat drifted about to and fro, their sustenance all the time being the water brought from the island, with which they refreshed themselves every third day, and were glad, as they felt neither hunger nor thirst. On Holy Saturday they reached the island of their former procurator, who came to meet them at the landing-place, and lifted every one of them out of the boat in his arms. As soon as the divine offices of the day were duly performed, he set before them a repast.

In the evening they again entered their boat with this man, and they soon discovered, in the usual place, the great whale, upon whose back they proceeded to sing the praises of the Lord all the night, and to say their Masses in the morning. When the Masses had concluded, Jasconius moved away, all of them being still on its back; and the brethren cried aloud to the Lord: “Hear us, O Lord, the God of our salvation.” But St. Brendan encouraged them: “Why are you alarmed? Fear not, for no evil shall befall us, as we have here only a helper on our journey.”

The great whale swam in a direct course towards the shore of the Paradise of Birds, where it landed them all unharmed, and on this island they sojourned until the Octave of Pentecost. When that solemn season had passed, their procurator, who was still with them, said to St. Brendan: “Embark now in your boat, and fill all the water-skins from the fountain. I will be the companion and the conductor of your journey henceforth, for without my guidance you could not find the land you seek, the Land of Promise of the Saints.” Then, while they were embarking, all the birds of the island, as soon as they saw St. Brendan, sung together in concert: “May a happy voyage under his guidance bring you safely to the island of your procurator.” They took with them provisions for forty days, as their course lay to the west for that space of time; during which the procurator went on before them, guiding their way,

At the end of forty days, towards evening, a dense cloud overshadowed them, so dark that they could scarce see one another. Then the procurator said to St. Brendan: “Do you know, father, what darkness is this?” And the saint replied that he knew not. “This darkness,” said he, “surrounds the island you have sought for seven years; you will soon see that it is the entrance to it;” and after an hour had elapsed a great light shone around them, and the boat stood by the shore.

When they had disembarked, they saw a land, extensive and thickly set with trees, laden with fruits, as in the autumn season. All the time they were traversing that land, during their stay in it, no night was there; but a light always shone, like the light of the sun in the meridian, and for the forty days they viewed the land in various directions, they could not find the limits thereof. One day, however, they came to a large river flowing towards the middle of the land, which they could not by any means cross over. St. Brendan then said to the brethren: “We cannot cross over this river, and we must therefore remain ignorant of the size of this country.” While they were considering this matter, a young man of resplendent features, and very handsome aspect, came to them, and joyfully embracing and addressing each of them by his own name, said: “Peace be with you, brothers, and with all who practise the peace of Christ. Blessed are they who dwell in Thy house, O Lord; they shall praise Thee for ever and ever.”

He then said to St. Brendan: “This is the land you have sought after for so long a time; but you could not hitherto find it, because Christ our Lord wished first to display to you His divers mysteries in this immense ocean. Return now to the land of your birth, bearing with you as much of those fruits and of those precious stones, as your boat can carry; for the days of your earthly pilgrimage must draw to a close, when you may rest in peace among your saintly brethren. After many years this land will be made manifest to those who come after you, when days of tribulation may come upon the people of Christ. The great river you see here divides this land into two parts; and just as it appears now, teeming with ripe fruits, so does it ever remain, without any blight or shadow whatever, for light unfailing shines thereon.” When St. Brendan inquired whether this land would be revealed unto men, the young man replied: “When the Most High Creator will have brought all nations under subjection, then will this land be made known to all His elect.” Soon after, St. Brendan, having received the blessing of this man, prepared for his return to his own country. He gathered some of the fruits of the land, and various kinds of precious stones; and having taken a last farewell of the good procurator who had each year provided food for him and his brethren, he embarked once more, and sailed back through the darkness again.

When they had passed through this, they reached the “Island of Delights,” where they remained for three days, as guests in the monastery; and then St. Brendan, with the abbot’s parting blessing, set sail in a direct course, under God’s guidance, and arrived at his own monastery, where all his monks gave glory to God for the safe return of their holy patron, and learned from him the wonderful works of God, which he had seen or heard during his voyage. Afterwards he ended in peace the days of his life, on the nones of July, our Lord Jesus Christ reigning, whose kingdom and empire endure for ever and ever. Amen!

The Earthly Paradise

And now that fair youth leads them on,
Where Paradise in beauty shone,
And there they saw the land all full
Of woods and rivers beautiful;
And meadows large, besprent with flowers,
And scented shrubs in fadeless bowers,
And trees with blossoms fair to see,
And fruit also deliciously
Hung from the boughs; nor briar, nor thorn,
Thistle, nor blighted tree forlorn
With blackened leaf, was there, for spring
Held aye a year-long blossoming;
And never shed their leaf the trees,
Nor failed their fruit, and still the breeze
Blew soft, scent-laden from the fields.
Full were the woods of venison;
The rivers of good fish each one,
And others flowed with milky tide
(No marvel, all things fructified).
The earth gave honey, oozing through
Its pores, in sweet drops like the dew;
And in the mount was golden ore,
And gems and treasures wondrous store;
There the clear sun knew no declining,
Nor fog nor mist obscured his shining;
No cloud across that sky did stray,
Taking the sun’s sweet light away;
Nor cutting blast, nor blighting air,
For bitter winds blew never there;
Nor heat, nor frost, nor pain, nor grief,
Nor hunger, thirst; for swift relief
For every ill was there; plentie
Of every good right easily
Each had according to his will,
And aye they wandered blightly still,
In large and pleasant pastures green,
Oh! such as earth hath never seen!
And glad was Brendan, for their pleasure
So wondrous was, that scant in measure
Their past toils seemed, nor could they rest,
But wandered aye in joyful quest
Of somewhat fairer, and did go
Hither and thither, to and fro,
For very joyfulness; and now
They climb a mountain’s lofty brow,
And see afar a vision rare
Of angels—I may not declare
What there they saw, for words could ne’er
The meaning tell; and melodie
Of that same heavenly company
For joy that they beheld them there
They heard, but could not bear its sweetness,
Unless their natures greater meetness
To that celestial place hath borne:—
But they were whelm’d with joy. “Return,”
Said they, “we may not this sustain.”
Then spoke the youth in gentle strain.
“O Brendan, God unto thine eyes
Hath granted sight of Paradise;
But know, it glories hath more bright
Than ere hath dazed thy mortal sight;
One hundred thousand times more fair
Are those abodes, but thou could’st ne’er
The view sustain, nor the ecstacy
Its meanest joys would yield to thee;
For thou hast in the body come,
But, when the Lord shall call thee home,
Thou, fitted then, a spirit, free
From weakness and mortality,
Shalt aye remain, no fleeting guest;
But taking here thy endless rest.
And while thou still remainest below
That heaven’s high favour all may know,
Take hence these stones, to teach all eyes
That thou hast been in Paradise.”

Anglo-Norman Trouvere.

St Brendan’s Return

We were about to cross its placid tide,
When, lo! an angel on our vision broke,
Clothed in white, upon the further side
He stood majestic, and thus sweetly spoke:
“Father, return, thy mission now is o’er;
God, who did call thee here, now bids thee go,
Return in peace unto thy native shore
And tell the mighty secrets thou dost know.

“In after years, in God’s own fitting time,
This pleasant land again shall re-appear;
And other men shall preach the truths sublime
To the benighted peoples dwelling here.
But ére that hour, this land shall all be made,
For mortal man, a fitting, natural home,
Then shall the giant mountain fling its shade,
And the strong rock stem the white torrent’s foam.

“Seek thy own isle —Christ’s newly-bought domain,
Which Nature with an emerald pencil paints:
Such as it is, long, long shall it remain,
The School of Truth, the College of the Saints,
The student’s bower, the hermit’s calm retreat,
The stranger’s home, the hospitable hearth,
The shrine to which shall wander pilgrim feet
From all the neighbouring nations of the earth.

“But in the end upon that land shall fall
A bitter scourge, a lasting flood of tears,
When ruthless tyranny shall level all
The pious trophies of its early years:
Then shall this land prove thy poor country’s friend,
And shine a second Eden in the west;
Then shall this shore its friendly arms extend,
And clasp the outcast exile to its breast.”

He ceased, and vanished from our dazzled sight,
While harps and sacred hymns rang sweetly o’er;
For us again we winged our homeward flight
O’er the great ocean to our native shore.
And, as a proof of God’s protecting hand,
And of the wondrous tidings that we bear,
The fragrant perfume of that heavenly land
Clings to the garments that we wear.

D. Fl. M‘Carthy’s “Voyage of St. Brendan.”