The children of Lir remained that night in the ruins of the palace--the home of their forefathers, where they themselves had been nursed; and several times during the night they chanted their sad, sweet, fairy music. Early next morning they left Shee Finnaha, and flew west to Inis Glora, where they alighted on a small lake. There they began to sing so sweetly that all the birds of the district gathered in flocks round them on the lake, and on its shore, to listen to them; so that the little lake came to be called the Lake of the Bird-flocks. During the day the birds used to fly to distant points of the coast to feed, now to Iniskea of the lonely crane,[XXIV.] now to Achill, and sometimes southwards to Donn's Sea Rocks,[XXV.] and to many other islands and headlands along the shore of the Western Sea, but they returned to Inis Glora every night. They lived in this manner till holy Patrick came to Erin with the pure faith; and until Saint Kemoc came to Inis Glora. The first night Kemoc came to the island, the children of Lir heard his bell at early matin time, ringing faintly in the distance. And they trembled greatly, and started, and ran wildly about; for the sound of the bell was strange and dreadful to them, and its tones filled them with great fear. The three brothers were more affrighted than Finola, so that she was left quite alone; but after a time they came to her, and she asked them-- "Do you know, my brothers, what sound is this?" And they answered, "We have heard a faint, fearful voice, but we know not what it is." "This is the voice of the Christian bell," said Finola; "and now the end of our suffering is near; for this bell is the signal that we shall soon be freed from our spell, and released from our life of suffering; for God has willed it." And she chanted this lay-- Listen, ye swans, to the voice of the bell, The sweet bell we've dreamed of for many a year; Its tones floating by on the night breezes, tell That the end of our long life of sorrow is near! Listen, ye swans, to the heavenly strain; 'Tis the anchoret tolling his soft matin bell: He has come to release us from sorrow, from pain, From the cold and tempestuous shores where we dwell! Trust in the glorious Lord of the sky; He will free us from Eva's druidical spell: Be thankful and glad, for our freedom is nigh, And listen with joy to the voice of the bell! Then her brothers became calm; and the four swans remained listening to the music of the bell, till the cleric had finished his matins. "Let us sing our music now," said Finola. And they chanted a low, sweet, plaintive strain of fairy music, to praise and thank the great high King of heaven and earth. Kemoc heard the music from where he stood; and he listened with great astonishment. But after a time it was revealed to him that it was the children of Lir who sang that music; and he was glad, for it was to seek them he had come.