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  <node>
    <title>Ferg006</title>
    <Collections>Conary</Collections>
    <Contributor>Linen Hall Library</Contributor>
    <Coverage>1880</Coverage>
    <Creator>Linen Hall Library</Creator>
    <Date>Saturday, March 12, 2016</Date>
    <Format>TIFF</Format>
    <Identifier>Ferg006</Identifier>
    <ItemDescription>Manuscript</ItemDescription>
    <Keywords>Prohibitions, Triad, Tara</Keywords>
    <Language>English</Language>
    <Path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/ferg006</Path>
    <Publisher>Linen Hall Library</Publisher>
    <Relation>Linen Hall Library</Relation>
    <Rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</Rights>
    <Scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Ferg006_2.jpg</Scannedimage>
    <Source>LHL Archive</Source>
    <Transcript>﻿Said Conary. &quot; I also call to mind
Amid my prohibitions this is one,
To follow three red riders on the way ;
Injunction idle, were it not divine.
After them, Ferflath ; stay them till we pass.&quot;
Then the Hght lad young Ferflath, Conary &#039;s son
Sprang forth at gallop on the red men&#039;s track,
And called his message shrilly from behind,
But failed to overtake them. He who rode
Last of the triad sang him back a lay —
&quot; Water, oh youth, oh high swift-riding youth,
On back, on neck, on shoulder Highly borne.
Water will quench : fire burn ; and shocks of hair
At horrid tidings, upon warriors&#039; heads
Bristle as reeds in water ; water ; ho ! &quot;
Ferflath returned, and told to Conary
The lay the red man sang ; &quot; and sir,&quot; he said,
&quot; I rode, I think, as seemly as himself.
And know not what he meant : but sure I am
These are not men of mankind, as we are.
But fairy men and ministers of ill.&quot;
&quot; Now then,&quot; said Conary, &quot; let every gaysh
That dread Religion with hard-knotting hand
Binds on the King of Tara, for to-day
Be broken ! Let them go. They may precede ;
May tie their red steeds at the great hall door,
And choose their seats within ; and I, the King,
May follow, and accept the traveller&#039;s place
Last to attain the inn. Well, be it so :
Respect departs with fortune&#039;s one-day change
But, friends, despond not, you. Though few we be
In midst of these marauders (oh, my heart 
</Transcript>
    <Type>Text</Type>
  </node>
</>
