The Priest

My late grandmother, Margaret Nina Hogan, wrote this poem about the dignity of the Catholic priesthood many years ago, probably around the time of WWII, or perhaps even a little before then. It was dedicated to a priest she knew. It wasn’t until long after after she had died that I knew about it, finding it in her collection of poems. I put music behind it and read the poem rather than finding a melody for it, as it seemed to me to be more dignified this way.

The Priest
Dedicated to Father Hugh Lagan)

I watched a knight ride down the thorny way
That leads from heaven and back to heaven leads,
And he in truth was armoured, creed of creeds,
And upon love was mounted, steed of steeds.
And where he rode it seemed the night was day.

He had the bearing of all-conqu’ring youth
And yet the wisdom of two thousand years
Shone in his smile and glistened in his tears
With all its wealth of loves and hopes and fears,
And all the passionate beauty of its truth.

He had that clarity of brow and eyes
Which is begotten of a noble mind,
As though some inward flame his thoughts refined
And rendered them more keen and yet more kind.
None were more innocent and few so wise.

His gentleness embraced the tired of heart,
And many rode for comfort at his side,
For with his tenderness their tears he dried,
And where the road was dark he was their guide
And rode with them his courage to impart.

Of earthly goods he had not anything,
But bore his knighthood with a tender pride,
And all the needs of those who asked supplied
From that great store which never is denied,
For he despensed the riches of the King.

         Margaret N. Hogan