Irish Druids and Old Irish Religions

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Griffith, Farran, 1894 - Druids and Druidism - 328 pages

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Contents

I
1
II
2
III
10
IV
27
V
31
VI
37
VII
44
VIII
45
XVIII
157
XIX
168
XX
189
XXI
198
XXII
211
XXIII
224
XXIV
232
XXV
238

IX
49
X
50
XI
62
XII
64
XIII
71
XIV
76
XV
79
XVI
101
XVII
116
XXVI
244
XXVII
247
XXVIII
257
XXIX
263
XXX
274
XXXI
279
XXXII
286
XXXIII
303
XXXIV
313

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Popular passages

Page 207 - Behold, all ye that kindle a fire, that compass yourselves about with sparks: walk in the light of your fire, and in the sparks that ye have kindled. This shall ye have of mine hand; ye shall lie down in sorrow.
Page 44 - What did not clash with the Word of God in the written law and in the New Testament, and with the consciences of the believers, was confirmed in the laws of the Brehons by Patrick and by the ecclesiasties and the chieftains of Erin; for the law of nature had been quite right, except the faith, and its obligations and the harmony of the church and the people. And this is the Senchus Mor.
Page 164 - Rossnaree And face me to the rising sun. 'For all the kings who lie in Brugh Put trust in gods of wood and stone; And 'twas at Ross that first I knew One, Unseen, who is God alone. 'His glory lightens from the east; His message soon shall reach our shore; And idol-god, and cursing priest Shall plague us from Moy Slaught no more.
Page 137 - Irish at this day, when they goe to battaile, say certaine prayers or charmes to their swords, making a crosse therewith upon the earth, and thrusting the points of their blades into the ground; thinking thereby to have the better successe in fight.
Page 42 - Such were the words of the bards in the days of song; when the king heard the music of harps, the tales of other times! The chiefs gathered from all their hills, and heard the lovely sound. They praised the voice of Cona! the first among a thousand bards!
Page 289 - I'd choose laboriously to bear A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, Than reign the scepter'd monarch of the dead...
Page 42 - But sit thou on the heath, O bard! and let us hear thy voice. Partake of the joyful shell, and hear the songs of Temora! "
Page 291 - Weep, thou father of Morar! weep; but thy son heareth thee not. Deep is the sleep of the dead; low their pillow of dust. No more shall he hear thy voice; no more awake at thy call. When shall it be morn in the grave, to bid the slumberer awake?
Page 197 - Retire, O sun ! the daughter of Colla is asleep. She will not come forth in her beauty. She will not move in the steps of her loveliness r Such was the song of the bards, when they raised the tomb.
Page 221 - Dance, because Giants, from the remotest parts of Africa, brought them into Ireland ; and in the plains of Kildare, not far from the castle of Naas...

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