Page:Dreams and Images.djvu/181

 Serving the loathsomest lepers that ever were stricken by God.

Brigid, the daughter of Duffy, she sold all her jewels and gems, Sold all her finely-spun robes that were braided with gold to the hems; Kept to her back but one garment, one dress that was faded and old, Gave all her goods to the poor who were famished with hunger and cold. Ah, 'twasn't Brigid would fling at the poor the hard word like a stone— Christ the Redeemer she saw in each wretch that was ragged and lone; Every wandering beggar who asked for a bite or a bed Knocked at her heart like the Man who had nowhere to shelter His head.

Brigid, the daughter of Duffy, she angered her father at last. "Where are your dresses, my daughter? Crom Cruach!   You wear them out fast! Where are the chains that I bought you all wrought in red gold from the mine? Where the bright brooches of silver that once on your bosom would shine?" Ah, but 'twas he was the man that was proud of his name and his race, Proud of their prowess in battle and proud of their deeds in the chase! Knew not the Christ, the pale God Whom the priests from afar had brought in,