Braved the blasts from Scuir-na-gillean,
But to plead with thee for succour,
Aid against the fell enchantment,
Terrible unknown enchantment,
Which hath bound my lips to silence—
Gloomy unresponsive silence.
Maidens' mouths were made for singing,
Song and laughter are their sunshine;
Cheering thus the world around them,
Wakening mirth with voice melodious.