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One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
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What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


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Read books online » Poetry » Poems by Denis Florence MacCarthy (websites to read books for free .TXT) 📖

Book online «Poems by Denis Florence MacCarthy (websites to read books for free .TXT) 📖». Author Denis Florence MacCarthy



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Of each kind, too, of palatable food And sweet, intoxicating, pleasant drink, The men of Erin to Ferdiah sent, He a fair moiety across the Ford Sent northward to Cuchullin, where he lay; Because his own purveyors far surpassed In numbers those the Ulster chief retained: For all the federate hosts of Erin were Purveyors to Ferdiah, with the hope That he would beat Cuchullin from the Ford. The Bregians[51] only were Cuchullin's friends, His sole purveyors, and their wont it was To come to him and talk to him at night.

That night they rested there. Next morn they rose And to the Ford of battle early came. "What weapons shall we use to-day?" inquired Cuchullin. "Until night the choice is thine," Replied Ferdiah; "for the choice of arms Has hitherto been mine." "Then let us take Our great broad spears to-day," Cuchullin said, "And may the thrusting bring us to an end Sooner than yesterday's less powerful darts. Let then our charioteers our horses yoke Beneath our chariots, so that we to-day May from our horses and our chariots fight." Ferdiah answered: "Let it so be done." And then they braced their two broad, full-firm shields Upon their arms that day, and in their hands That day they took their great broad-bladed spears.
And thus from early morn to evening's close They smote each other with such dread effect That both were pierced, and both made red with gore,- Such wounds, such hideous clefts in either breast Lay open to the back, that if the birds Cared ever through men's wounded frames to pass, They might have passed that day, and with them borne Pieces of quivering flesh into the air. When evening came, their very steeds were tired, Their charioteers depressed, and they themselves Worn out-even they the champions bold and brave. "Let us from this, Ferdiah, now desist," Cuchullin said; "for see, our charioteers Droop, and our very horses flag and fail, And when fatigued they yield, so well may we." And further thus he spoke, persuading rest:-

CUCHULLIN.

Not with the obstinate rage and spite With which Fomorian pirates fight Let us, since now has fallen the night,
Continue thus our feud; In brief abeyance it may rest, Now that a calm comes o'er each breast:- When with new light the world is blest,
Be it again renewed."

"Let us desist, indeed," Ferdiah said, "If the fit time hath come."-And so they ceased. From them they threw their arms into the hands Of their two charioteers. Each of them came Forward to meet the other. Each his hands Put round the other's neck, and thus embraced, Gave to him three fond kisses on the cheek. Their horses fed in the same field that night; Their charioteers were warmed by the same fire. Their charioteers beneath their bodies spread Green rushes, and beneath their heads the down Of wounded men's soft pillows. Then the skilled Professors of the art of healing came To tend them and to cure them through the night. But they for all their skill could do no more, So numerous and so dangerous were the wounds, The cuts, and clefts, and scars so large and deep, But to apply to them the potent charms Of witchcraft, incantations, and barb spells, As sorcerers use, to stanch the blood and stay The life that else would through the wounds escape:- Of every charm of witchcraft, every spell, Of every incantation that was used To heal Cuchullin's wounds, a full fair half Over the Ford was westward sent to heal Ferdiah's hurts: of every sort of food, And sweet, intoxicating, pleasant drink The men of Erin to Ferdiah sent, He a fair moiety across the Ford Sent northward to Cuchullin where he lay, Because his own purveyors far surpassed In number those the Ulster chief retained. For all the federate hosts of Erin were Purveyors to Ferdiah, with the hope That he would beat Cuchullin from the Ford. The Bregians only were Cuchullin's friends- His sole purveyors-and their wont it was To come to him, and talk with him at night.

They rested there that night. Next morn they rose, And to the Ford of battle forward came. That day a great, ill-favoured, lowering cloud Upon Ferdiah's face Cuchullin saw. "Badly," said he, "dost thou appear this day, Ferdiah, for thy hair has duskier grown This day, and a dull stupour dims thine eyes, And thine own face and form, and what thou wert In outward seeming have deserted thee." "'Tis not through fear of thee that I am so," Ferdiah said, "for Erin doth not hold This day a champion I could not subdue." And thus betwixt the twain this speech arose, And thus Cuchullin mourned and he replied:

CUCHULLIN.

O Ferdiah, if it be thou, Certain am I that on thy brow The blush should burn and the shame should rise, Degraded man whom the gods despise, Here at a woman's bidding to wend To fight thy fellow-pupil and friend.

FERDIAH.

O Cuchullin, O valiant man, Inflicter of wounds since the war began, O true champion, a man must come To the fated spot of his final home,- To the sod predestined by fate's decree His resting-place and his grave to be.

CUCHULLIN.

Finavair, the daughter of Mave, Although thou art her willing slave, Not for thy long-felt love has been Promised to thee by the wily queen,- No, it was but to test thy might That thou wert lured into this fatal fight.

FERDIAH.

My might was tested long ago In many a battle, as thou dost know, Long, O Hound of the gentle rule, Since we fought together in Scatha's school: Never a braver man have I seen, Never, I feel, hath a braver been.

CUCHULLIN.

Thou art the cause of what has been done, O son of Daman, Dare's son, Of all that has happened thou art the cause, Whom hither a woman's counsel draws- Whom hither a wily woman doth send To measure swords with thy earliest friend.

FERDIAH.

If I forsook the field, O Hound, If I had turned from the battleground- This battleground without fight with thee, Hard, oh, hard had it gone with me; Bad should my name and fame have been With King Ailill and with Mave the queen.

CUCHULLIN.

Though Mave of Croghan had given me food, Even from her lips, though all of good That the heart can wish or wealth can give Were offered to me, there does not live A king or queen on the earth for whom I would do thee ill or provoke thy doom.

FERDIAH.

O Cuchullin, thou victor in fight, Of battle triumphs the foremost knight; To what result the fight may lead, 'Twas Mave alone that prompted the deed; Not thine the fault, not thine the blame, Take thou the victory and the fame.

CUCHULLIN.

My faithful heart is a clot of blood, A feud thus forced cannot end in good; Oh, woe to him who is here to be slain! Oh, grief to him who his life will gain! For feats of valour no strength have I To fight the fight where my friend must die.

"A truce to these invectives," then broke in Ferdiah; "we far other work this day Have yet to do than rail with woman's words. Say, what shall be our arms in this day's fight?" "Till night," Cuchullin said, "the choice is thine, For yester morn the choice was given to me." "Let us," Ferdiah answered, "then resort Unto our heavy, sharp, hard-smiting swords, For we are nearer to the end to-day Of this our fight, by hewing, than we were On yesterday by thrusting of the spears." "So let us do, indeed," Cuchullin said. Then on their arms two long great shields they took, And in their hands their sharp, hard-smiting swords. Each hewed the other with such furious strokes That pieces larger than an infant's head Of four weeks' old were cut from out the thighs And great broad shoulder-blades of each brave chief. And thus they persevered from early morn Till evening's close in hewing with the swords. "Let us desist," at length Ferdiah said. "Let us indeed desist, if the fit time Hath come," Cuchullin said; and so they ceased. From them they cast their arms into the hands Of their two charioteers; and though that morn Their meeting was of two high-spirited men, Their separation, now that night had come, Was of two men dispirited and sad. Their horses were not in one field that night, Their charioteers were warmed not at one fire. That night they rested there, and in the morn Ferdiah early rose and sought alone The Ford of battle, for he knew that day Would end the fight, and that the hour drew nigh When one or both of them should surely fall.

Then was it for the first time he put on His battle suit of battle and of fight, Before Cuchullin came unto the Ford. That battle suit of battle and of fight Was this: His apron of white silk, with fringe Of spangled gold around it, he put on Next his white skin. A leather apron then, Well sewn, upon his body's lower part He placed, and over it a mighty stone As large as any mill-stone was secured. His firm, deep, iron apron then he braced Over the mighty stone-an apron made Of iron purified from every dross- Such dread had he that day of the Gaebulg. His crested helm of battle on his head He last put on-a helmet all ablaze From forty gems in each compartment set, Cruan, and crystal, carbuncles of fire, And brilliant rubies of the Eastern world. In his right hand a mighty spear he seized, Destructive, sharply-pointed, straight and strong:- On his left side his sword of battle swung, Curved, with its hilt and pommel of red gold. Upon the slope of his broad back he placed His dazzling shield, around whose margin rose Fifty huge bosses, each of such a size That on it might a full-grown hog recline, Exclusive of the larger central boss That raised its prominent round of pure red gold.

Full many noble, varied, wondrous feats Ferdiah on that day displayed, which he Had never learned at any tutor's hand, From Uatha, or from Aife, or from her, Scatha, his early nurse in lonely Skye:- But which were all invented by himself That day, to bring about Cuchullin's fall.

Cuchullin to the Ford approached and saw The many noble, varied, wondrous feats Ferdiah on that day displayed on high. "O Laegh, my friend," Cuchullin thus addressed His charioteer, "I see the wondrous feats Ferdiah doth display on high to-day: All these on me in turn shall soon be tried, And therefore note, that if it so should chance I shall be first to yield, be sure to taunt, Excite, revile me, and reproach me so, That wrath and rage in me may rise the more:- If I prevail, then let thy words be praise, Laud me, congratulate me, do thy best To stimulate my courage to its height." "It shall be done, Cuchullin," Laegh replied.

Then was it that Cuchullin first assumed His battle suit of battle: then he tried Full many, various, noble, wondrous feats He never learned from any tutor's hands, From Uatha, or from Aife, or from her, Scatha, his early nurse in lonely Skye. Ferdiah saw these various feats, and knew Against himself they soon would be applied.

"Say, O Ferdiah, to what arms shall we Resort in this day's fight?" Cuchullin said. Ferdiah answered, "Unto thee
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