“I have wisdom. Thy heart and thy brain were closed. I could not give you what I brought. I brought wisdom.”
“Give it.”
“Behold!”
And Colum, sitting upon the strewed fern that was his bed, rubbed his eyes that were heavy with weariness and fasting and long prayer. He could not see his Sleep now. It was gone, as smoke that is licked up by the wind.
But on the ledge of the hole that was in the eastern wall of his cell he saw a bird. He leaned his elbow upon the leabhar-aifrionn that was by his side.[3] Then he spoke.
[3] The “leabhar-aifrionn” (pron. lyo-ur-eff-runn) is a missal: literally a mass-book, or chapel-book. Bru-dhearg is literally red-breast.
“Is there song upon thee, O Bru-dhearg?”
Then the Redbreast sang, and the singing was so sweet that tears came into the eyes of Colum, and he thought the sunlight that was streaming from the east was melted into that lilting sweet song. It was a hymn that the Bru-dhearg sang, and it was this:
Holy, Holy, Holy,
Christ upon the Cross;
My little nest was near,
Hidden in the moss.
Holy, Holy, Holy,
Christ was pale and wan:
His eyes beheld me singing
Bron, Bron, mo Bron![4]