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  <title>Item Dublin Core</title>
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  <updated>2026-04-04T00:34:13+01:00</updated>
  <author>
    <name>admin</name>
    <email>niwa@bt48.com</email>
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  <entry>
    <id>579</id>
    <title>Ferg069</title>
    <updated>Monday, June 27, 2016 - 16:12</updated>
    <link href="https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/node/%25/atom"/>
    <collections>Deirdre</collections>
    <contributor>Linen Hall Library</contributor>
    <coverage>1880</coverage>
    <creator>Linen Hall Library</creator>
    <date>Thursday, February 4, 2016</date>
    <format>TIFF</format>
    <identifier>Ferg069</identifier>
    <itemdescription>Manuscript</itemdescription>
    <keywords>Unhappy, Palace, World</keywords>
    <language>English</language>
    <path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/ferg069</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/Ferg069_0.jpg</scannedimage>
    <source>LHL Archive</source>
    <transcript>﻿LEVARCAM.
Too blind with passion to perceive them lie
Here almost at his feet : he hurries past.
Unhappy Fergus, what atrocious pangs
Of rage and self-reproach will sting thee through
When presently thou shalt have learned it all !
Ay, big with bitter knowledge, back he comes. 

FERGUS.
Fire, bring me fire ! bring ropes and grapple-hooks !
I’ll pull his proud aspiring palace-roof
Down to the ground and burn it over him,
I&#039;ll take such vengeance on this traitor king
All Erin, shore to shore, shall ring with it,
And poets in the ages yet to come,
Make tales of wonder of it for the world. 

The End.
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    <type>Text</type>
    <updateddate>Monday, June 27, 2016 - 16:12</updateddate>
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