grey tempestuous seas, and where so much St. 

 depends on such small things — a little drift- Bridget 

 wood, a few heaps of peat, a few shoal of fish shores 

 now of one kind now of another, a few cartloads 

 of seaweed, a rejoicing sound is that in truth 

 when the Gille-Bhride is heard crying along 

 the shores. Who that has heard its rapid 

 whirling cry as it darts from haunt to haunt 

 but will recognise its own testimony to being 

 ' Servant of Breed ' (the common pronuncia- 

 tion of the Gaelic Brighid or Bride) — for does 

 it not cry over and over again with swift 

 incessant iterance, Gilly-breed, gilly-breed, 

 gilly-breed, gilly-breed, gilly-breed. 



" White may my milking be. 



White as thee ; 

 Thy face is white, thy neck is white, 

 Thy hands are white, thy feet are white, 

 For thy sweet soul is shining bright — 



O dear to me, 



O dear to see, 



St. Bridget White ! 

 Yellow may my butter be, 



Firm, and round : 

 Thy breasts are sweet, 

 Firm, round, and sweet, 

 So may my butter be : 

 So may my butter be, O 



Bridget Sweet ! 

 Safe thy way is, safe, O 



Safe, St. Bride : 



85 



