<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" ?>
<!-- generator="Drupal Views Datasource.Module" -->
<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xml:lang="en">
  <title>Item Dublin Core</title>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com" />
  <link rel ="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom" />
  <id>tag:https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom</id> 
  <updated>2026-04-10T00:09:56+01:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
  </author>
  <entry>
    <id>518</id>
    <title>Ferg008</title>
    <updated>Monday, June 27, 2016 - 12:15</updated>
    <link href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom"/>
    <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>Ferg008</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Erin, Firewood, Cualann</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/ferg008</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/Ferg008_2.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿Poets, belike, or judges. After these
Heralds, it seem&#039;d, or high apparitors
That give the world to know a great one comes
He in the third car rode ; an aged man.
Full-grey, majestical, of face serene.
Followed by household numerous and strong,
Cooks, butlers, door- wards, cup-bearers, and grooms.
What heard ye ? &quot; 

&quot; From a vast hall&#039;s open doors
The stroke of steel on flint at kindling fire ;
And every stroke so sounded as the arm
That gave it were a giant&#039;s, and every shower
Of sparks it shed — as if a summer sky
Lightened at eve — illumined the dusk around.&quot;
&quot; What this, good Ferragon, who best of all
Knowest Erin hill and valley, things and men } &quot;
Said Ingcel. Ferragon made answer slow,
(For, first, his soul said this within himself,
&quot; Oh, royal brother, that it be not thou ! &quot;) —
&quot; I know not what may be this open hall
With fire at hand unless, belike, it be
Da-Derga&#039;s guest-house, which, for all who come
By Cualann Street, stands open, wherein still
Firewood stands stack&#039; d and brazen cauldron hangs
Slung ready, and clear water running through ;
Bruidin-Da-Derga.&quot;
&quot; And the man who strikes
The flint and steel to kindle fire therein ? &quot; 

&quot; I know not if it be not that he be
Some king&#039;s fore-runner, sent before a king
To kindle fire ere yet the king himself 
</transcript>
    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Monday, June 27, 2016 - 12:15</updateddate>
  </entry>
</feed>
