Our Patron Saint Of Glasgow Poem by PAUL COLVIN

I stand alone upon a hill, viewing dear old Glasgow
And lying just behind me here, the Cathedral of St. Mungo.
There hangs a lively painted plaque, upon medieval wall,
A lovely plaque that has a past, is strange to one and all.

The founder of this dear green place, was born at Culross,
In 518, a bastard son, of Thenaw expelled Princess.
In 543, he built a church, upon the River Clyde,
The Cathedral stands on that spot now and we show it off with pride.

A pagan prince drove out our saint, and so he fled to Wales
But he returned to save the souls, and some say cured their ails.
The massive crowd had gathered round but most were out of reach,
Then ground rose up beneath his feet, now all could hear him preach.

A branch of hazel, so folklore goes, was used to light a tree,
To light a darkened passage, in a Culross Monastery.
A bird, a robin, His master’s pet, was killed by some disciples,
St Mungo brought life to the bird; St Serf danced in the aisles.

The Queen of Cadzow, mistrusted wife, had lost her spouse’s ring.
A Clyde caught salmon, ring in mouth, was presented to the King!
Finally we have the bell, the one he brought from Rome.
He rang the bell when someone died, for parishioners to come.

A motto grew, from that one speech, about our native ward,
“Lord, Let Glasgow Flourish by the preaching of the word”.
The Tree, the Bird, the Fish, the Bell, The Glasgow Coat Of Arms,
Embedded in Glaswegian’s mind, full of St Mungo’s charms.