The bird of Christ

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!

Holy, Holy, Holy,

Come near, O wee brown bird!"

Christ spake, and lo, I lighted

Upon the Living Word.

Holy, Holy, Holy,

I heard the mocking scorn!

But Holy, Holy, Holy,

I sang against a thorn!

Holy, Holy, Holy,

Ah, his brow was bloody:

Holy, Holy, Holy,

All my breast was ruddy.

Holy, Holy, Holy,

Christ's-Bird shalt thou be:

Thus said Mary Virgin

There on Calvary.

Holy, Holy, Holy,

A wee brown bird am I:

But my breast is ruddy

For I saw Christ die.

Holy, Holy, Holy,

By this ruddy feather,

Colum, call thy monks, and

All the birds together.