From An Irish Slave Boy Poem by Hm. Nes

The rooster is crowing- The water is boiling
For tea and the waking of all that I love;
While far in the distance, from waters that bless us,
Come rumblings, as thunderous wrath from above

Strange men weighed with weapons, invading our Irelands,
With cold rage that threatens to kill all that's good-
They're murdering Father, enslaving my mother,
And chasing the rooster as sport for their food

O God that is righteous, will you not defend us
From Vikings victorious who'll thank pagan Thor?
Comes peace all transcending from Heaven's halls blending
The wisdom of God midst this tumult of war

Like Esther and Shadrack, Abednego, Meshack,
My slavery will bring back the Vikings to truth-
Of our Savior Jesus, the one who will free us-
I'll boldly proclaim this, though I'm but a youth