We bathe Your palms
In showers of wine,
In the crook of the kindling,
In the seven elements,
In the sap of the tree,
In the milk of honey.

We place nine pure, choice gifts
In Your clear, beloved face:

The gift of form,
The gift of voice,
The gift of fortune,
The gift of goodness,
The gift of eminence,
The gift of charity,
The gift of pure maidenhood,
The gift of true nobility,
The gift of apt speech.

Dark is yonder town,
Dark are those within,
You are the brown swan,
Going within fearlessly,
Their hearts beneath Your hand,
Their tongues beneath Your foot,
No word will they utter to do You ill.

You are a shade in the heat,
You are a shelter in the cold,
You are eyes to the blind,
You are a staff to the pilgrim,
You are an island in the sea,
You are a stronghold upon the land,
You are a well in the wasteland,
You are healing to the sick.

Yours is the skill of the Faery Woman,
Yours is the virtue of Bride,
Yours is the faith of Moira, mild,
Yours are the deeds of the women of Greece,
Yours is the boldness of Emer the beautiful,
Yours are the features of Darthula's face,
Yours is the spirit of Maeve the strong,
Yours is the affection of the sweet singer.

You are the luck of every joy,
You are the light of the sun's beams,
You are the door of lordly welcome,
You are the pole star of guidance,
You are the step of the roe of the height,
You are the step of the white-faced mare,
You are the grace of the swimming swan,
You are the jewel in each mystery.

Nine waves around You,
Nine winds above You,
Nine paths across You,
Nine fires about You,
Nine wells beneath You,
Nine wisdoms given You,
Nine gifts given You,
Nine skills given You,
Nine strengths given You,
Ninefold the blessing of the sidhe.