<?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>2026-04-24T03:05:40+01:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
  </author>
  <entry>
    <id>538</id>
    <title>Ferg028</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>Ferg028</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Druid, Childhood, Gods</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/ferg028</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/Ferg028_2.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿&quot; Gods ! can it be,&quot; said Conary, &quot; that my chiefs
Desert me in this peril ! &quot;
&quot; King,&quot; said Cecht,
&quot; Escape who will, we here desert thee not.&quot;
&quot; Oh, never will I think that Conall fled,&quot;
Said Ferflath. &quot; He is brave and kind and true,
And promised me he would return again.
It is these wicked sprites of fairy-land
Who have beguiled the chiefs away from us.&quot;
&quot; Alack,&quot; the Druid cried ; &quot; he speaks the truth :
He has the seer&#039;s insight which the gods
Vouchsafe to eyes of childhood. We are lost ;
And for thy fault, oh Conary, the gods
Have given us over to the spirits who dwell
Beneath the earth.&quot;
&quot; Deserted I may be.
Not yet disheartened, nor debased in soul,&quot;
Said Conary &quot; My sons are with me still,
And thou, my faithful sidesman, and you all
Companions and partakers of my days
Of glory and of power munificent,
I pray the gods forgiveness if in aught,
Weighty or trifling, I have done amiss ;
But here I stand, and will defend my life.
Let come against me power of earth or hell.
All but the gods themselves the righteous ones,
Whom I revere.&quot; 

&quot; My king,&quot; said Cecht, &quot; the knaves
Swarm thick as gnats at every door again,
Behoves us make a circuit, for ourselves.
Around the house ; for so our fortune stands
That we have left us nothing else to choose
But, out of doors, to beat them oflF, or burn
Within doors ; for they fire the house anew.&quot;
Then uprose kingly Conary himself
And put his helmet on his sacred head,
And took his good sharp weapon in his hand,
And braced himself for battle long disused. 
</transcript>
    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Monday, June 27, 2016 - 12:15</updateddate>
  </entry>
</feed>
