A Byr a Thoddaid

 Dear sweet wee Saint Dominic went
 To Wales, to David’s See, and spent
 Some years in study, on his knees in prayer,
 And caring for the bees.
  
 Such care as bishops show their flocks
 Modomnóc showed his bees. He’d talk
 Words sweet as mead. It makes bees thrive full well,
 To tell it to the Hive.
  
 Modomnóc grew, Modomnóc learned,
 And back to Ireland he returned
 But on the ship back home at last, there formed
 A black swarm round the mast
  
 A sight no sailor’s eyes had seen
 As if there stowed away a Queen.
 So David’s bees were by devotion drawn
 Out upon the ocean
  
 It’s said that Patrick drove the snakes
 From Ireland. Love let Domnóc take
 To Ireland bees, a greater form of feat;
 Love is more sweet than hate