"We are well content to do so," replied they; and all proceeded together somewhat joyfully, until they came to Fioncha. They found the place where their father's palace had stood, and all around it, without either house or inhabitants, but everything looking dreary and dull. They saw smoke at a distance, and the four came towards it, and uttered three mournful cries, and Fingula repeated these words:-- A mournful wonder is this place to me, Which once I knew so well! Not even the trace of that loved home I see, Where Lir was wont to dwell. Nor hound, nor steed, nor lord nor lady bright, Nor welcome spoken! Since I have lived to see this mournful sight, My heart is broken. This was not in our father's time of old, A loveless, lightless waste, Without a cup the sparkling wine to hold, Or princely guest to taste. The home where oft we hailed each joyous morn Is bleak and lonely! And nothing left to us, its heirs forlorn, Save memory only. Now do I know the deep devouring grave Holds all who once were dear! Sad was our life on Moyle's tempestuous wave, But keener grief is here. Low rustling grass, and winds that sadly blow Through dry leaves creeping! And he who should his cherished darlings know, Forever sleeping! The children of Lir remained in the place where their father and their ancestors had lived, and where they had themselves been nursed and educated, and late at night they began to sing most melodious music. In the morning they took wing and flew until they came to Inis Gluaire Breanain, and they began to sing there; so that all the birds of the country that could swim came to that place, which was called Lochan na Heanlaithe (or the Lake of the Birds). They continued in that condition for a long time, until the Christian doctrine was preached in those countries, when St. Patrick came to Ireland, and St. Macaomh Og came to Inis Gluaire Breanain. The first night he came there the children of Lir heard the sound of the bell ringing near them, and were greatly rejoiced. They hastened towards the place from whence they heard the bells, and the three sons of Lir made such speed that they left Fingula by herself. "What is the matter with you, dear brethren?" said Fingula. "We cannot tell," they replied, "we know not how to account for the heavenly music we have heard." "I will explain it to you," said she; "that is the bell of Macaomh Og, and it is by him you shall be released from your pain and trouble, and you shall be comforted"; and she said these lines:--