My frozen wings together clinging:
No more along the stormy tide
I hear my brethren singing.
Three lingering ages, marked by woes,
Since first we left Lone Dairvreac's water
Break, break, my heart, and give repose
To Lir's unhappy daughter.
Beloved alike, O loved so well,
That made your sister's breast your pillow.
Tell me, my wandering brethren, tell,