THE BALLAD OF FATHER GILLIGAN
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
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 on a chair,
At the moth-hour of 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 on 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 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.”
A HISTORICAL ANECDOTE
BY THOMAS FRANCIS BRENNAN
In about 1850, Elizabeth McMahon and her brother John left the port of Cork in Ireland aboard a ship of the type known as “coffin ships,” bound for America. She was 16 years of Age. Her brother was 15. Neither could read or write.
After a long, uncomfortable voyage, they landed in New York City. They knew no one in New York, but they had the name of a relative or a friend of a relative in Rochester, NY. They had just enough money to purchase rail tickets to Rochester.
They arrived at the station on Central Avenue and began to walk south on St. Paul Street. As they progressed, they presumably discussed what they would do now that they had arrived. At the corner of St. Paul Street and Andrews Street they noticed an elaborate stone house set back on a terrace. (There are presently high-rise apartments in this site.)
Elizabeth remarked that the house looked prosperous enough to perhaps have a need for domestic help. She went into the stone house, leaving her brother to wait for her. She must have made an impression on the residents because she was hired as a domestic servant on the spot.
She then went to the door of the house and signaled to her brother that she had found employment. John waved at her and then began on his way along St. Paul Street. Elizabeth never saw or heard from her brother again.
(My source for this story is my father. Elizabeth McMahon was his maternal grandmother.)
Irish Stories and Folklore Page 38