- Sweeter to me about the waves
though my talons to-night are feeble
than the grig-graig of the church-bell,
is the cooing of the cuckoo of the Bann.
- O woman, do not bring forth thy son
on a Friday,
the day whereon Suibhne Geilt eats not
out of love for the King of righteousness.
- As the women scutch the flax
'tis true though 'tis I be heard
even so were beaten my folk
in the battle of Magh Rath.
- From Loch Diolair of the cliff
to Derry Coluim Cille
it was not strife that I heard
from splendid, melodious swans.
- The belling of the stag of the desert above the cliffs
in Siodhmuine Glinne
there is no music on earth
in my soul but its sweetness.
- O Christ, O Christ, hear me!
O Christ, O Christ, without sin!
O Christ, O Christ, love me!
sever me not from thy sweetness!.