While near the slain sate Lord Lez-Breiz,
Resting him wearily.
And he had been no Christian, sure
Who wept not to behold
The tears from Lez-Breiz’ eyes that fell,
And dropped upon the mould,
All in the church of good S. Anne,
Where, on his bended knee,
Weeping he thanked the patroness
Of his own Brittany.
“Mother S. Anne, all thanks to you,
All thanks to you I give:
‘Twas in your might I fought the fight,
Still, thanks to you, I live.”
VII.
This combat fierce to keep in mind
Is sung this goodly song;
In honor of the brave Lez-Breiz
May Bretons sing it long!