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Harp of Cnoc I'Chosgair, you who bring sleep
To eyes long sleepless
Sweet subtle, plangent, glad, cooling, grave
Excellent instrument with smooth gentle curve
Trilling under red fingers
Musician that has charmed us
Red, lion-like of full melody
You who lure the bird from the flock
You who refresh the mind
Brown spotted one of sweet words
Ardent, wondrous, passionate
You who heal every wounded warrior
Joy and allurement to women
Familiar guide over the dark blue water
Mystic sweet sounding music
You who silence every instrument of music
Yourself a sweet plaintive instrument
Dweller among the Race of Conn
Instrument yellow-brown and firm
The one darling of sages
Restless, smooth, sweet of tune
Crimson star above the Fairy Hills
Breast jewel of High Kings
Sweet tender flowers, brown harp of Diarmuid
Shape not unloved by hosts, voice of cuckoos in May
I have not heard music ever such as your frame makes
Since the time of the Fairy People
Fair brown many coloured bough
Gentle, powerful, glorious
Sound of the calm wave on the beach
Pure shadowing tree of pure music
Carousals are drunk in your company
Voice of the swan over shining streams
Cry of the Fairy Women from the Fairy Hill of Lir
No melody can match you
Every house is sweet stringed through your guidance
You, the pinnacle of harp music

"May the road rise to meet you"
Unknown

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