Patrick monologue — The Purgatory of St. Patrick

Here, mighty Lord, dart down thy searching glance, Arm'd with the dreadful lightnings of Thine ire, Wing'd with Thy vengeance, as the bolt with fire, And rout the squadrons of fell ignorance: Come not in pity to the hostile band, Treat not as friends Thy enemies abhorr'd, But since they ask for portents, mighty Lord, Come with the blood-red lightnings in Thy hand. Of old Elias asked with burning sighs For chastisement, and Moses did display Wonders and portents; in the self-same way Listen, O Lord, to my beseeching cries, And though I be not great or good as they, Still let my accents pierce the listening skies! Portents and chastisement, both day and night I ask, O Lord, may from Thy hand be given, That Purgatory, Hell and Heaven, May be revealed unto these mortals' sight.