Tend Thou us to the cot and the fold,
Sain us beneath Thine own glorious mantle;
Thou Shield of protection, guard us for ever,
Be Thou a hard triumphant slave
To shield us securely from wicked hell,
From the fiends and from the stieve snell gullies,
And from the lurid smoke of the abyss.
Be my soul in the trustance of the High King,
Be Michael the powerful meeting my soul.