Saint Brendan, he sailed o'er the western seas
With stars as his guide and with sail and with breeze
With God as his helper, his helmsman who guides
His boat is his church and his friend is the tide
With saintly men 'round him, he journeyed the foam
Strange birds and strange fishes and waters unknown

For he tried to seek land that was promised to all
'Twas taught of in stories and westward it called
Saint Brendan and those who were with him who sailed
Just like the Milesians sought out Inisfail

I'm sure you have heard of Hy-Brasilin lore
Of gaels who had travelled to western shores
With a boat made of oak and the hyde of an ox
You were ah but a master to all of your flock
Through storm and through calm and in tempest and fog
The spiritual tales of your journey did log

For you bade your disciples they be not afraid
For they feared and they wondered on all that they gazed
And the seas that you voyaged, strange lands that you called
Your own native Kerry you loved above all

You saw islands of sheep and saw mountains of fire
And beasts that devoured and an island of choirs
Pillars of crystal and rivers so wide
And beaches that ran out for miles with the tide
You have eaten strange foods and you drank from strange wells
Saw fountains and demons you thought of as hell
And an island of grapes, oh, who knows where it lay?
On a sea that was clear, sailed for many a day
For Saint Brendan, you searched for some mystic terrain
With the way of the cross it would not be in vain
From the church of Ardfert to Mountain Brandon's tall reeds
May the ruins of the abbey past glories they speak
Be it legend or fable, the stories of gaels
To many lands travelled where boats could hoist sail

From the cross of Iona to the plains of Ukraine
One sang out your praises; remembered your name
Your stories and travels revered with renown
Through centuries later, wise scribes written down
And today as our ships sail with honour and grace
Be the sailor Saint Brendan the guide of our race