[5] One archaic poem, possibly dating from about 600 AD, reads as follows: Móin óin, ó ba nóid, ní bu nós ardríg, oirt ríga, rout án, aue Luirc Labraid.
Glinnsit coicthe cota lir lerggae íath nÉremóin: is iarna longis Lóchet Longsech fían flaith Góidel gabsus.
Gríb indrid íath n-anéoil aue Luirc Lóiguiri arddu dóinaib acht nóibrí nime.
Ór ós gréin gelmair gabais for dóine domnaib sceo déib Día óin as Móin macc Áini óinrig.
Móen alone since he was an infant (or "an adult")—a thing which is a custom for a High King—slew kings (with) a splendid shot, Labraid grandson of Lorc.
The saga ends with: So then Cobthach Coel is there destroyed, with seven hundred followers and thirty kings around him, on the eve of great Christmas precisely.