Three men of Ireland left its air
For Alfred’s in a boat quite bare
Of oars and canvas. Muse! Relate
How they, for god’s love, sought a state
Of pilgrimage, they cared not where.

The boat which carried them was wrought
With two hides and a half; they brought
Food but for seven nights, no more:
The seventh night, the stormy shore
Of Cornwall led to Alfred’s court.

I praise this blessed ‘three in one’ –
Macbethu, Dubslane, Malinmun
Their names, but no one knew their boat’s:
Like the Argo, and the Ark it floats
As long as time’s green tide shall run.