But when the gloom is on the wave A shell unto the shore I bring: And then upon the rocks I sit And plaintive sing. O what is this wild song I sing, With meanings strange and dim? No soul am I, a wave am I, And sing the Moon-Child's hymn. Softly Colum drew nigh. "Peace," he said. "Peace, little one. Ah, tender little heart, peace!" The child looked at him with wide sea-dusky eyes. "Is it Colum the Holy you will be?" "No, my fawn, my white dear babe: it is not Colum the Holy I am, but Colum the poor fool that knew not God!" "Is it you, O Colum, that put the sorrow on my mother, who is the Sea-woman that lives in the whirlpool over there?" "Ay, God forgive me!" "Is it you, O Colum, that crucified the seal that was my father: him that was a man once, and that was called Black Angus?" "Ay, God forgive me!" "Is it you, O Colum, that bade the children of Hy run away from me, because I was a moon-child, and might win them by the sea-spell into the green wave?" "Ay, God forgive me!" "Sure, dear Colum, it was to the glory of God, it was?" "Ay, he knoweth it, and can hear it, too, from Murtagh, who died this night." "Look!" And at that Colum looked, and in a moon-gold wave he saw Black Angus, the seal-man, drifting dark, and the eyes in his round head were the eyes of love. And beside the man-seal swam a woman fair to see, and she looked at him with joy, and with joy at the Moon-Child that was her own, and at Colum with joy. Thereupon Colum fell upon his knees and cried,-- "Give me thy sorrow, wild woman of the sea!" "Peace to you, Colum," she answered, and sank into the shadow-thridden wave. "Give me thy death and crucifixion, O Angus-dhu!" cried the Saint, shaking with the sorrow. "Peace to you, Colum," answered the man-seal, and sank into the dusky quietudes of the deep. "Ah, bitter heart o' me! Teach me the way to God, O little child," cried Colum the old, turning to where the Moon-Child was! But lo, the glory and the wonder! It was a little naked child that looked at him with healing eyes, but there were no seaweeds in her hair, and no shell in the little wee hands of her. For now, it was a male Child that was there, shining with a light from within: and in his fair sunny hair was a shadowy crown of thorns, and in his hand was a pearl of great price. "O Christ, my God," said Colum, with failing voice. "It is thine now, O Colum," said the Moon-Child, holding out to him the shining pearl of great price. "What is it, O Lord my God?" whispered the old servant of God that was now glad with the gladness: "what is this, thy boon?" "Perfect Peace." _And that is all._ (_To God be the Glory. Amen._) THE ANNIR-CHOILLE When Cathal mac Art, that was called Cathal Gille-Muire, Cathal the Servant of Mary, walked by the sea, one night of the nights in a green May, there was trouble in his heart.