At morning tide, 
Upon the hill of Sliabh-na-mBan, 
I saw the dead Christ glorified ! 
His body, like the risen sun, 
Was all too bright to look upon : 
The blue air burned 
About him : in his side 
And hands and feet there shone 
(Thro' stabs and gashes gaping wide) 
The golden glory of his blood : 
The gilly stood 
 
Upon his right hand : at his feet 
The fishers, Peter, James and John, 
Knelt worshipping 
With outstretched arms, and eyes 
To heaven turned : 
And Maria, his mother sweet, 
(The partner of his mysteries) 
And Magdalen and Salome 
Came thro' the doorway of the day 
Behind him, weeping. 
 
Then a cloud came o'er 
My senses, and I saw and heard no more !