  Welcome, little stranger, Born in pain and danger, He will be our gracious Lord, Son of gentle Cathva. Son of gentle Cathva, From the fort of Brug na Brat; Son of valorous Ness the Young, My son, and my grandson. My son, and my grandson, Of the world the shining One, He of old Rath Line the king, Poet-prince, my offspring. Poet-prince, my offspring, Overseas thy hosts thou wilt fling; Little songster from the Brug, Little kid, we welcome you. |
|
