Brigid, Poetry in praise of....
Bridget Charm for Smooring the Fire I
I rake this fire like everyone else
Bridgit below it with Mary on top
Twelve angels of the angels of the ages
Protecting my house till dawn
Bridget Charm for Smooring the Fire II
May Bridgit give blessing to the house that is here;
Bridgit, the fair and tender,
Her hue like the cotton-grass,
Rich-gressed maiden of ringlets of gold.
Bridget House Blessing
Brighid of the Mantle, encompass us,
Lady of the Lambs, protect us,
Keeper of the Hearth, kindle us,
Beneath your mantle gather us,
And restore us to memory.
Gabhaim Molta Bríghde (We Praise Bridgit)
Gabhaim molta Bríghde, Iníon í le hÉireann
Iníon le gach tír í, molaimís go léir í!
Lóchrann geal na Laighneach, soils’ ar feadh na tíre,
Ceann ar óigheacht Éireann, ceann na mban ar míne.
Tig an geimhreadh dian dubh, gearra lena géire,
Ach ar lá le Brighde, gar duinn Earrach Éireann.
Molaimís go léir í!
English Translation (We Praise Bridget)
I sing loudly the praises of Bridget
She it is who is daughter,
not just of Ireland,
but of all the countries of the world.
A shining lantern of Leinster,
a flame throughout the land,
Leader of the women of Ireland,
one of the finest women ever.
The hard, dark winter comes,
short and sharp
But once Bridget’s Day appears,
Ireland’s spring is not far behind.
Saint Brigid’s Prayer (10th century Poem attributed to Bridget herself)
I’d like to give a lake of beer to God.
I’d love the heavenly
Host to be tippling there
For all eternity.
I’d love the men of Heaven to live with me,
To dance and sing.
If they wanted, I’d put at their disposal
Vats of suffering.
White cups of love I’d give them
With a heart and a half;
Sweet pitchers of mercy I’d offer
To every man.
I’d make Heaven a cheerful spot
Because the happy heart is true.
I’d make the men contented for their own sake.
I’d like Jesus to love me too.
I’d like the people of heaven to gather
From all the parishes around.
I’d give a special welcome to the women,
The three Marys of great renown.
I’d sit with the men, the women and God
There by the lake of beer.
We’d be drinking good health forever
And every drop would be a prayer.
St. Brigid’s cross hung over door
Which did the house from fire secure
As Gillo thought, O powerful charm
To keep a house from taking harm;
And tho’ the dogs and servants slept,
By Brigid’s care the house was kept.
1735 poem
Saint Bride's Charm
The charm put by Bride the beneficient
On her goats, on her sheep, on her kine
On her horses, on her chargers, on her herds
Early and late going home, and from home.
To keep them from rocks and ridges
From the heels and the horns of one another
From the birds of the Red Rock
And from Luath of the Feinne.
From the blue peregrine hawk of Creag Duillion
From the brindled eagle of Ben-Ard
From the swift hawk of Tordun
From the surly raven of Bard's Creag.
From the fox of the wiles
From the wolf of the Mam
From the foul-smelling fumart
And from the restless great-hipped bear.
From every hoofed of four feet
And from every hatched of two wings.
Blessing of Brigit
Each day and each night
That I say the Descent of Brigit
I shall not be slain
I shall not be sworded
I shall not be put in cell
I shall not be hewn
I shall not be riven
I shall not be anguished
I shall not be wounded
I shall not be ravaged
I shall not be blinded
I shall not be made naked
I shall not be left bare
Nor will Dagda
Leave me forgotten.
Nor fire shall burn me
Nor sun shall burn me
Nor moon shall blanch me
Nor water shall drown me
Nor flood shall drown me
Nor brine shall drown me
Nor seed of faerie shall lift me
Nor seed of airy host shall lift me
Nor earthly beig destroy me
I am under the shielding
Of good Brigit each day
I am under the shielding
Of good Brigit each night.
I am under the keeping
of the Child of Dagda
Each early and late,
Every dark, every light.
Brigit is my comrade-woman
Brigit is my maker of song
Brigit is my helping-woman
My choicest of women, my guide.
O my Prince, who can do all these things
Bless O God my kitchen with your right hand
My kitchen, the kitchen of the white God
A kitchen which my king hath blessed,
A kitchen that has butter.
Mary’s Son my friend, come to bless my kitchen
The Prince of the World to the border
May we have abundance with him.
