“Tell me, O eisireùn,” she called, “which way shall I be going?”
And at this the eisireùn swerved in its flight, and followed the golden bee, crying, “This way, O Bride, Bride, Bride, Bride, Bri-i-i-ide!”
So it is that from that day the oyster-catcher has been called the Gille-Bhrighde, the Servant of St Bridget.
Then it was that Bride said this sian:
Dia romham;
Moire am dheaghuidh;
’S am Mac a thug Righ nan Dul!
Mis’ air do shlios, a Dhia,
Is Dia ma’m luirg.
Mac’ ’oire, a’s Righ nan Dul,