Classic Poem

Rex regum, for whom praise flows freely,
To my Lord above I offer prayer:
Prince of glory's land, pure region on high,
Master, make peace between you and me.
Sickened, saddened in heart that I have
Offended you, remorseful for it,
I have rated rebuke in God's presence,
My true belief left unpractised:
I will practise it yet, for my Prince,
Before I am buried, left strengthless.
True the prediction to Adam's offspring
That has been proclaimed by the prophets:
Jesus within Mary's virgin womb,
Mary joyfully bore her burden.
A burden have I built of sins heaped high;
I have lived in fear of its turmoil.
Lord of all places, how good to praise you!
May I praise you, be purged before I burn.
King of kings who knows me, deny me not
Forgiveness for my transgressions.

I have often had gold and brocade
From mortal lords for singing their praise,
And the gift of song gone, powers failing,
Stripped of wealth my tongue fell silent.
I, Meilyr the Poet, pilgrim to Peter,
Gate-keeper who gauges true value,
At the time set for us to arise
Who are in the grave, make me ready.
May I dwell while awaiting the summons
In the cell with the tide beside it:
Secluded it is, undimmed its fame,
With its graves in the breast of the sea,
Fair Mary's isle, saintly isle of her saints,
Resurrection's scene, it is splendid.
Christ, his cross foretold, will know me, lead me
Past the pains of hell, exile's dwelling.
The Maker who made me will meet me
In the fair parish of Enlli's faithful.