MICHAEL PATTO ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCHOld Michael Pat he said to meHe saw an angel in a tree.He knew I’d never, never doubt him,For what would heaven be without them.The angel laughed for very gleeAnd sang out loud: “Heigh! come with me!”Old Michael felt a creeping kindOf wonder in his humble mind,And, hardly knowing what to say,Ran where the angel showed the way.The lambs were running on the hills,Glad laughter echoed from the rills,And many hidden little birdsTalked pleasant things in singing words.He followed up a mountain thenAnd saw a crowd of singing menApproaching to a Crown of LightWherein they took a fresh delight.He danced and sang and whooped and crewTo see the Lord of all he knewSurrounded by the living songsOf stars and men in countless throngs,And then he died to life again,And shovelled with the strength of ten.He taught me how to say my letters,And take my hat off to my betters,And when I asked for fairy stories,He told me of angelic glories.He was a lovely farmer, heHad seen an angel in a tree.EDWARD J. O’BRIEN
Old Michael Pat he said to meHe saw an angel in a tree.He knew I’d never, never doubt him,For what would heaven be without them.The angel laughed for very gleeAnd sang out loud: “Heigh! come with me!”Old Michael felt a creeping kindOf wonder in his humble mind,And, hardly knowing what to say,Ran where the angel showed the way.The lambs were running on the hills,Glad laughter echoed from the rills,And many hidden little birdsTalked pleasant things in singing words.He followed up a mountain thenAnd saw a crowd of singing menApproaching to a Crown of LightWherein they took a fresh delight.He danced and sang and whooped and crewTo see the Lord of all he knewSurrounded by the living songsOf stars and men in countless throngs,And then he died to life again,And shovelled with the strength of ten.He taught me how to say my letters,And take my hat off to my betters,And when I asked for fairy stories,He told me of angelic glories.He was a lovely farmer, heHad seen an angel in a tree.
EDWARD J. O’BRIEN