Bride of our hearth
Bless this place With warmth With shelter With fire that burns for us. Bride of our streams Of wells and water courses Asperge our land With rain With dew. Bride of the candles Lit for your remembrance Bright be your blessings As the Sun climbs higher In his Winter rising. Bride of our company Of links and friendship Across Brigantia, the isles Of your peoples: Veil us within the bounds of belonging. |
Brigid, Bríg, Bride, Brigantia;
Birch, beith, bedw, betula - Bright boles break the dark of winter Buds swell on branches of pubescens and pendula. Deep wells springing with rising waters, Sunlight growing as snowlight falters, Swift streams tumbling over mountain boulders Swelling through valleys to meet wide rivers. So fills the cup that she will bear To the feast of the brightening of the year As across these islands by each name we call her: Brigid, Bríg, Bride, Brigantia. |