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  <title>Item Dublin Core</title>
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  <updated>2026-04-03T23:00:13+01:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
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  <entry>
    <id>535</id>
    <title>Ferg025</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>Ferg025</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Vengeance, Cecht, Condlongas</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/ferg025</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/Ferg025_2.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿Are not among you.&quot;
&quot; King,&quot; said Fergobar,
&quot; I die without the vengeance that I vowed.
Thou never lovedst me : but the love thou gavest
My hapless brothers, well have they returned.
And both lie outside, slain by their own hands
Rather than join in this cause with me.&quot; 

&quot; The gods between us judge,&quot; said Conary.
&quot; Cast not his body forth. I loved him once,
And burial he shall have, when, by and by.
These comrades of his desperate attempt
Are chased away.&quot;
But swiftly answered Cecht,
&quot; King, they bring fire without : and, see, the stream
Runs dry before our feet, damm&#039;d off above.&quot; 

&quot; Then, truly, lords,&quot; said Conary, &quot; we may deign
To put our swords to much unworthy use.
Cormac Condlongas, take a troop with thee.
And chase them from the house ; and, strangers, ye
Who rode before me without licence asked ;
I see ye be musicians ; take your pipes
And sound a royal pibroch, one of you,
Before the chief.&quot;
&quot; Yea, mighty king,&quot; said one,
&quot; The strain I play ye shall remember long,&quot;
And put the mouthpiece to his lips. At once —
It seemed as earth and sky were sound alone.
And every sound a maddening battle-call,
So spread desire of fight through breast and brain,
And every arm to feat of combat strung.
Forth went the sallying hosts : the hosts within
Heard the enlarging tumult from their doors 
</transcript>
    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Monday, June 27, 2016 - 12:15</updateddate>
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