Proud of their prowess in battle and proud of their deeds in the chase!
Knew not the Christ, the pale God Whom the priests from afar had brought in,
Held to the old Gaelic gods that were known to Cuchullin and Finn.
Brigid, the daughter of Duffy, made answer, “O father,” said she,
“What is the richest of raiment, and what are bright jewels to me?
Lepers of Christ must I care for, the hungry of Christ must I feed;
How can I walk in rich robes when His people and mine are in need?”
Ah, but ’twas she didn’t fear for herself when he blustered and swore,
Meekly she bowed when he ordered his chariot brought to the door;
Meekly obeyed when he bade her get in at the point of his sword,