On Angus the Culdee

Delightful to sit here thus
By the side of the cold pure Nore:
Though it was frequented, it was never a path o raids
In glorious Disert Bethech.

Disert Bethech, where dwelt the man
Whom hosts of angels were wont to visit;
A pious cloister behind a circle of crosses,
Where Angus son of Oivlen used to be.

Angus from the assembly of Heaven,
Here are his tomb and his grave:
'Tis hence he went to death,
On a Friday, to holy Heaven.

'Tis in Clonenagh he was reared,
In Clonenagh he was buried:
In Clonenagh of many crosses
He first read his psalms.