The Melodious Lady-Lord

Who is she the melodious lady-lord.
At the base of the knoll,
At the mouth of the wave ?

Not the ale.
Not the duck.
Not the swan,
And not alone is she.

Who is she the melodious lady-lord,
At the base of the knoll,
At the mouth of the wave ?

Not the lark,
Not the merle.
Not the mavis,
On the bough is she.
Who is she the melodious lady-lord,
At the base of the knoll.
At the mouth of the wave ?

Not the murmuring ptarmigan
Of the hill is she.

Who is she the melodious lady-lord,
At the base of the knoll.
At the mouth of the wave ?

Not the grilse of the stream.
Not the seal of the wave.
Not the sea maiden
Of May is she.

Who is she the melodious lady-lord.
At the base of the knoll.
At the mouth of the wave ?
Not the dame of the distaff.
Not the damsel of the lyre,
Not the golden-haired maid
Of the flocks is she.
Who is she the melodious lady-lord,
At the base of the knoll,
At the mouth of the wave ?

Melodious lady-lord,
God-like in loveliness.

Daughter of a king.
Granddaughter of a king,
Great-granddaughter of a king,
Great-great-granddaughter of a king,
Great-great-great-granddaughter of a king,
Wife of a king.
Mother of a king,
Foster-mother of a king.
She lullabying a king.
And he under her plaid.
From Erin she travelled,
For Lochlann is bound.
May the Trinity travel with her
Whithersoever she goes —
Whithersoever she goes.