To Mary and Her Son

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"To Mary and Her Son"

c. 750

Blathmac, Son of Cú Brettan

A member of the Fir Rois of modern-day County Monaghan, Blathmac was a son of the chieftain who took part in the Battle of Allen (722) and the brother of a saga character named Donn Bó (d. c. 759). His poems, in Old Irish, reflect a knowledge of Latin learning and also demonstrate that the cult of the Virgin Mary was established in Ireland by the eighth century. These verses, part of a much longer poem of 149 stanzas, use the caoineadh (keen) as a structuring device, with the poet asking if he can join Mary in keening her dead son Jesus and ending with a moving invocation of Mary.

SEE ALSO Early Medieval Ireland and Christianity

Come to me, loving Mary,
that I may keen with you your very dear one;
Alas! The going to the cross of your son,
that great jewel, that beautiful champion.

That with you I may beat my two hands
for your fair son's captivity.
Your womb has conceived Jesus —
it has not marred your virginity.

You have conceived him and no sin with man,
you brought him forth without ailing wound;
without grief he strengthened you (fair grace!)
at the time of his crucifixion.

I ask: Have you heard of a son like this,
one who could do these three things?
Such has not come upon the thighs of women
and such will not be born.

The first-begotten of God, the Father, in heaven
is your son, Mary, virgin;
he was begotten in a pure conception
through the power of the septiform Spirit.

No father has found, Mary,
the like of your renowned son;
better he than prophet, wise than druid,
a king who was bishop and full sage.

His form was finer than that of other beings,
this stout vigour greater than any craftsman's,
wiser he than any breast under heaven,
juster than any judge.

More beautiful, more, pleasant, bigger than other boys
since he was in his swaddling clothes;
it was known what would come of him,
a being for the saving of multitudes.

Noble the being born from you!
You were granted, Mary, a great gift:
Christ, son of the Father in heaven,
him have you borne in Bethlehem.

May I have from you my three petitions,
beautiful Mary, little white-necked one;
get them, sun amongst women,
from your son who has them in his power.

That I may be in the world till old
serving the Lord who rules starry heaven,
and that then there be a welcome for me
into the eternal, ever-enduring kingdom.

That everyone who uses this as a vigil prayer
at lying down and at rising,
that it may protect him from blemish in the other world
like breastplate and helmet.

Everyone if any sort shall recite it
fasting on Friday night,
provided only that it be with full-flowing tears,
Mary, may he not be for hell.

When your son comes in anger
with his cross on his reddened back,
that then you will save
any friend who shall have keened him.

For you, beautiful Mary,
I shall go as guarantor:
anyone who says the full keen,
he shall have reward.

I call you with true words,
Mary, beautiful queen,
that we may have talk together
to pity your heart's darling.

So that I may keen the bright Christ
with you in the most heartfelt way,
shining precious jewel,
mother the great Lord.

Were I rich and honoured
ruling the people of the world to every sea,
they would all come with you and me
to keen your royal son.

There would be beating of hands
by women, children and men,
that they might keen on every hill-top
the king who made every star.

I cannot do this. With heartfelt feeling
I will bewail your son with you
if only you come at some time
on a visit to me.

Come to me, loving Mary,
you, head of unsullied faith,
that we may have talk together
with the compassion of unblemished heart.

Medieval Irish Lyrics with the Irish Bardic Poet, translated by James Carney (1967), pp. 13, 15, 17, 19, 21.