Fields and her own fields small, small!
“What a fine and wide place is Eirinn,” said she,
“I am Mor, but not great after all.”
Then a herdsman came, and he told her
That her sons had stolen away:
They had left the calves in the hollow,
With the goose-flock they would not stay:
They had seen three ships on the sea
And nothing would do them but go:
Mor wept and wept when she heard it,
And her tears made runnels below.
Then her shining splendor departed:
She went, and she left no trace,
And the Cloud-woman, Mor, was never
Beheld again in that place.
The proud woman, Mor, who was daughter
Of Griann, the Sun, and who made
A marriage to equal that grandeur,
Passed away as a shade.