The Wednesday Poem: 'I see his Blood upon the Rose'

June 12, 2016

I See His blood Upon the Rose.

I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows
His tears fall from the skies
I see his face in every flower;
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his voice –and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.
All pathways by his feet are worn,
His strong heart stirs the ever-beating sea,
His crown of thorns is twined with every thorn,
His cross is every tree.

- Joseph Plunkett

In Ireland this year we are celebrating the centenary of the 1916 Rising. From the richness of materials available so much can be gleaned, but of the many aspects of Rising 1916, some of which are controversial, I wish to single out one truth, that the Rebellion’s main leaders – Patrick Pearse, Thomas McDonagh and Joseph Mary Plunkett – were not men at arms but writers, poets and visionaries of a literary bent, who were steeped in the Catholicism of their time. Many of us who were schooled in mid 20th century would have learnt Plunkett’s well-wrought poem by heart. Did we know then what we were learning? Did we ask who Plunkett was? Did we wonder how a tubercular twenty-three year old could write such a mystical and sacrificial poem on Christ?...

Joseph Mary Plunkett was born November 21st, 1897, the eldest son and second child of George Noble Plunkett and his wife Josephine Mary. Plunkett contracted a virulent form of bovine tuberculosis when he was two. This debilitating illness flared up frequently during his life and confined him to long periods of convalescence. His education was intermittent. Taught mainly at home, he had an intellectual and enquiring mind whom his father stimulated with talks to the children of books, art and history, with visits to galleries and theatre. In 1991, he attended Belvedere College, cycling there daily. Sometimes he was treated with school-boy harshness because ‘he was not a boy like the rest.’ In October 1906, he was well enough to be sent to another Jesuit College, Stonyhurst in Lancashire, which offered a two year ‘Gentleman-Philosophers’ course, as a preparation for Oxford or Cambridge. I’m sure he must have heard of Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, who lived there for some time from April 1878 to teach that special preparatory course? Plunkett, because of his health, did not play sports, but he satisfied his rapacious desire for knowledge in the fine library. It was during that time that he read works of mysticism such as those of Evelyn Underhill.

Back home in Dublin, he aligned himself with Pearse and the Volunteers and was a member of the military council. It was he who masterminded the rebellion, assigning the leaders with their small battalions to strategic buildings in the city. He himself remained at the main centre, the GPO. Ever a flamboyant figure, wearing a scarf over his uniform to conceal the surgical gash on his neck he was a supportive presence to the volunteers. It was said of him that ‘it was not so much his courtesy that struck one as his courtliness, not so much his politeness, as his kindness and grace.’ His last words before his execution on the morning of May 4, 1916 in Kilmainham jail were spoken to Fr Sebastian O’Brien OFM Cap.: ‘I’m very happy. I am dying for the glory of God and the honour of Ireland'. But the event of his marriage the night before to his fiancé, Grace Gifford, while soldiers stood around with bayonets drawn, is what is most remembered, having been immortalised in the beautiful song Grace.

But there is a depth of meaning in Plunkett’s understanding of dying ‘for the glory of God.’ A few months before his death he wrote to Grace Gifford on ‘seeing his (God’s) glory in the beauty of things he has created and especially through your love for me and mine for you.’ In a letter dated February 1916, he spoke of the glory of God being expressed through action, including ‘heroic action’ and action as’ a leader of men’ and that he was prepared to act on these beliefs and follow Christ in this most difficult path of love, knowing it will issue in joy.

I hope these few words will help in a small way to bring Plunkett’s fine poem into our century that we may once again read it and hear it anew.
(For citation of Plunkett’s words etc. I am indebted to D. Bracken ed. The End of all Things Earthly: Faith Profiles of the 1916 Leaders. Veritas, 2016),pp.90-92).

Messages to: Jo O'Donovan rsm

Poetry commentary by Sr Jo previously published on mercyworld.org:

* Eucharist by Nora Wall rsm
* 'Spring' by Gerard Manley Hopkins sj
*'Travelling through the Dark' by William Stafford
* 'Men Go To God' by Dietrich Bonhoeffer
* 'Advent' by Patrick Kavanagh
* 'This Above All is Precious and Remarkable' by John Wain
* 'Spring and Fall: To a Young Child' by Gerard Manley Hopkins sj