Some’ll drink at the fair the morrow,
And some’ll sup with the spoon of sorrow;
But whether they’ll get as far as Droichid
The night—well, who knows that but God?
[AS I CAME OVER THE GREY, GREY HILLS]
As I came over the grey, grey hills
And over the grey, grey water,
I saw the gilly leading on,
And the white Christ following after.
Where and where does the gilly lead?