One day, Maewyn was in the pasture,
Tending his master's herds,
When he heard spoken, clear as a spring,
These few simple words,
"Your ship is ready." the voice did say,
He started then to run
And didn't stop to take a break
'Til long had set the sun.
Maewyn's will was iron strong,
His faith never fell short,
It carried him his journey's length,
Until he found the port,
Out of which was chosen
For him, back home, to sail
-But this is just the beginning
Of Maewyn Succet's tale.
Maewyn Succet expressed his thanks
For arriving to the ship,
"How kind of my creator
To provide me with this trip!
I see every situation
As God's intended test
And, in everyone that follows,
I shall serve him at my best."
Young Maewyn Succet obtained his fare
And boarded the vessel,
But he was fraught with conflict,
With which long he would wrestle,
But, not many hours effervesced
After the ship embarked
When the wind blew in, waters grew rough
And the sky bloomed dark.
All hands were called upon the deck
To prepare for the storm;
The pagan fishermen and merchants
Saw, from the deep, arise a wicked form.
Each of them tried to appease its wrath
With devil witchery
Only to be swept away
In the seething surgings of the sea
'Til Maewyn stood upon the deck
Where others cast a curse
And, in his heart, recited
A simple line of verse,
Then he spoke a loud
A heartfelt, humble prayer.
Before he finished giving thanks,
Warm-winged breezes filled the air.
The ship was saved, the storm dissolved
As quickly as it came,
The survivors cast off their idols
Calling Maewyn by the name,
Father of the People (Patricus),
Through whose faith unshaken
Kept the people of the ship
From being overtaken.
The passengers had a pleasant voyage
And made it back to home,
But Patrick had hundreds of miles,
He still would have to roam
Before he reached his homeland,
With his family to reunite-
He still had many dangers
He yet would have to fight.