They continued thus until about the middle of the night. The wind then increased to a storm, the waters arose, and the mountains of brine as they rolled and broke around them sparkled in the gloom as if they had taken fire. So great was the tempest that the children of Lir were separated by the waves. All were scattered far and wide, nor could one tell whither any of the three others had been driven. At length it abated a little of its violence, the deep became more settled, and Fingula found herself alone. Not being able to see her brethren anywhere around, she felt the deepest anxiety of mind, and at length broke forth into the following words:-- Heart-broken o'er these seas I glide, My frozen wings together clinging: No more along the stormy tide I hear my brethren singing. Three lingering ages, marked by woes, Since first we left Lone Dairvreac's water Break, break, my heart, and give repose To Lir's unhappy daughter. Beloved alike, O loved so well, That made your sister's breast your pillow. Tell me, my wandering brethren, tell, Where roam you o'er the billow? Hid by what rocks or secret caves, That wont beneath my wings to slumber, I fear the dead will leave their graves, Ere time restore our number. Tossed by the surge and sleety storm At random o'er this briny water; Woe, woe to all who share the form Of Lir's unhappy daughter. Fingula remained that night on the Rock of the Seals. At sunrise the next morning, looking out in every direction along the water, she saw Cornu coming towards her with head drooping, and feathers drenched with spray, so cold and feeble that he could not answer her questions. Fingula received him lovingly under her wings, and said:-- "If Eugene were with us now, our condition would be tolerable." Not long after she saw Eugene coming towards her, with a drooping head, and wings hanging to the ground, and she welcomed him, and put him under the feathers of her breast. Immediately after she saw Fiacra approaching, and she then removed Cornu from beneath her right wing and placed him under her left, and put Fiacra beneath her right wing, where Cornu had been before. She then settled her feathers about them, and said:-- "Severe, my dear brothers, as you have found the last night, you must yet see many more as bad." The children of Lir continued for a long time in the same condition on the Sruih na Maoile, until one night they suffered so much from the cold and wind and snow, that nothing they had hitherto felt was comparable to it; which made Fingula utter the following words:-- Hard is our life and sharp with ill, My brethren dear; The snow so thick, the wind so chill, The night so drear. We strive to keep Sad concert in our songs of pain, But the wild deep, Relentless, mars the rising strain.