Hail, Brigit! whose lands
To-day I behold,
Whither monarchs of old
Came each in his turn.
Thy fame shall outburn
Their mightiest glory;
Thou art over them all, till this Earth ends its story.

Yea! Thy rule with the King
Everlasting shall stand,
Apart from the land
Of thy burial-place.
Child of Bresal's proud race,
O triumphing Bride,[A]
Sit safely enthroned upon Liffey's green side.

[Footnote A: Brigit; hence St. Bride's Bay.]




THE DEVIL'S TRIBUTE TO MOLING

(From the Early Irish)

Once, when St. Moling was praying in his church, the Devil visited him
in purple raiment and distinguished form. On being challenged by the
saint, he declared himself to be the Christ, but on Moling's raising the
Gospel to disprove his claim, the Evil One confessed that he was Satan.