Listen.

MY LITTLE LODGE

On the margin of Codex S. Pauli.

My little lodge in Tuaim Inbir, --

There's no great house of statelier timber;

With its stars art evening bright,

Sun by day and moon by night.

Gobban's was the hand that planned it --

Listen, would you understand it --

And God of heaven, my heart's beloved,

The roofer that built the roof above it.

A house in which the rain-storm falls not,

A spot where spear-point sharp appalls not;

A very garden, full of light, --

And no forbidding fence in sight!

Anonymous, 8th c.