There are three floods that come up to the dun of Ard-Ruide: a flood
of fighting-men, a flood of horses, a flood of the hounds of Lugaidh's
son.

The flood-wave and the two swift ebb-tides; what the flood-wave brings
you in, the ebb-wave sweeps out of your hand.

The flood-wave and the second ebb-tide; they have all come as far as
me, the way that I know them well.

The flood-tide will not reach to the silence of my kitchen; though
many are my company in the darkness, a hand has been laid upon them
all. My flood-tide! It is well I have kept my knowledge. It is Jesus
Son of Mary keeps me happy at the ebb-tide.

It is far is the island of the great sea where the flood reaches after
the ebb: I do not look for floods to reach to me after the ebb-tide.

There is hardly a little place I can know again when I see it; what
used to be on the flood-tide is all on the ebb to-day!




_Some of the Wonders Told at the Great in the East of the
World by the Voice of Philip the Apostle, that Was Like the Laughter
of an Army, and With that No Louder than the Talk of Friend in the
Ear of Friend;_