AndrĂŠs Hurtado
... What would the world be, once bereft Of wet and of wildness? Let them be left, O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet. Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–1889). Poems, 1918, Inversnaid.
For my family and everyone who helped me make this dream a reality. Thanks.
Š Design, illustrations and photographs by AndrÊs Hurtado
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Contents 10 ... 12 Leinster 14-15 The West Wind 16-19 Dubh Linn 20-21 Book of Kells 22-23 The Druid 24-25 Trim Castle, Co.Meath 26-27 Newgrange, Co.Meath 28-29 Tara, Co.Meath 30-31 Glendalough, Co.Wicklow Wicklow Mountains, Co.Wicklow 32 Dunbrody Abbey, Co.Wexford 33 Inistioge, Co.Kilkenny 35 Muiredach’s Cross, Monasterboice, Co. Louth Cross of the Scriptures, Clonmacnoise, Co. Offaly
36 Munster 38-39 Rock of Cashel, Co.Tipperary 40 Timoleague Abbey, Co.Cork 41 Drombeg Stone Circle, Co.Cork 42 42-43 44-45 46 47
Beara Peninsula, Co.Kerry and Co.Cork Dunboy Castle, Co.Cork Healy Pass and Caha Mountains, Co.Kerry Clear Island, Co.Cork Uragh Stone Circle, Co.Kerry Ballycrovane Ogham Stone, Co.Cork
48-49 Eyeries, Co.Cork
Iveragh Peninsula, Co.Kerry
52-53 Macgillycuddy’s Reeks 54-59 The Skellig Islands
Dingle Peninsula, Co.Kerry
60-61 Gallarus Oratory
62 Slea Head - Connor Pass 63 Brandon Creek 64-65 Fahan, Beehive Huts 66-67 King John’s Castle, Limerick 68-69 The Ancient Music of Ireland 70-71 Bunratty, Co.Clare 72-73 Crannóg 74-75 Poulnabrone Dolmen, Co.Clare 77 Quin Abbey, Co.Clare 78-79 Cliff of Moher, Co.Clare
80 Connacht 82-83 Aughnanure Castle, Co.Galway 84-85 The Bogs, Connemara, Co.Galway 86-89 Connemara, Co.Galway 90-91 Inishmore, Aran Islands, Co.Galway 92-93 Kylemore Lough, Connemara, Co.Galway 94-95 Connemara, Co.Galway 96-97 Killary Fjord, Co.Galway 98-99 Delphi Valley, Co.Mayo 100 Downpatrick Head, Co.Mayo 101 Clew Bay and Croagh Patrick, Co.Mayo 102-103 Clew Bay, Co.Mayo 104-105 106 107 108-109
Yeats Country, Co.Sligo Ben Bulben The Stolen Child Yeats Memorial - Glencar Waterfall Rosses Point
110-111 Carrowkeel, Co.Sligo 112-113 Queen Maeve - Carrowmore tomb, Co.Sligo
114 Ulster 116-117 Cuchulainn 118-119 Teelin Bay, Co.Donegal 120 St. John’s Point, Co.Donegal 121 Killaghtee Cross, Co.Donegal 122-123 Glencolumbkille, Co.Donegal 124-125 Kilcklooney Dolmen, Co.Donegal 126-127 Malin More, Co.Donegal 128-129 Slieve League, Co.Donegal 130-131 Poison Glen, Co.Donegal 132-133 Glenveagh, Co.Donegal 134-137 Giant’s Causeway, Co.Antrim 138-139 Dunluce Castle, Co.Antrim 139 Whiterocks Beach, Co.Antrim
140-149 Faeries 150-151 Magic Potions 152-153 The Black Gold Inn 154-155 About the Author 156 Bibliography
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Carlow Dublin Kildare Kilkenny Laois Longford Louth Meath Offaly Westmeath Wexford and Wicklow
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Last night the air was cold and still, No breeze was moving in Glendhu; The golden beech leaves scarcely stirred Above my head as I went through. From every cottage rose the smoke, An’ not a breath its column broke. Brown in the glen the bracken grew, No broken leaf or stem you’d find. But after dawn the gale awoke, The world seemed rocking in the wind. Across the Wicklow hills he came, The herdsmen felt his great wings beat; The waves of Lough Nahanagan Were ruffled by his flying feet; The Vale of Clara felt him pass Swift-foot across the meadow grass; They heard him where the waters meet, He made the pines and larches sway; He crossed the stream at Glenmacnass, And blew the falls to silver spray.
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They heard his pipes in Glenmalure, He sang a song of Western seas; The withered leaves in Glendalough Rose up and rustled round his knees; He shook the beeches of Glendhu To golden rain as he passed through. He bent Glencullen’s tallest trees, His breath was rough on bird and beast, Across the mountain tops he flew To take his pleasure in the east.
Oh, wild wind from the distant west, Be still again and give us rest.
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The Book of Kells
Anciently the Book of Kells, which is now the most precious manuscript possessed by the Library of Trinity College, Dublin, was known as the Gospel or Book of Columcille, possibly because it was in the custody of the Columban comunity at Kells, but more probably because it was written at Iona in honour of St. Columba. The Abbey of Kells, after destruction by fire, was rebuilt in the year 804. Prior to that date the Columban foundation at Kells was little known; but it soon began to acquire celebrity owing to the influx of monks driven from lona by the raids of the Norsemen, and a few years later became the headquarters of the Columban community. Here, between the years 806 and 813, Cellach, the Abbot of lona, took refuge; and we may conjecture that this famous book was brought from lona by him, thus passing into the possession of the monastery at Kells. Here it remained until the year 1541, when the abbey and its possessions were surrendered by the last Abbot, Richard Plunket. In the year 1568 it was in the custody of Gerald Plunket. Subsequently it was acquired by Archbishop Ussher, and, with the rest of his valuable library, came into the possession of Trinity College. The manuscript, which is written in black, red, yellow, and purple inks, contains, in addition to the Four Gospels, a fragment of the interpretation of Hebrew names, the Eusebian Canons, Summaries of the Gospels, and grants of certain lands by Muirtach O’Laghlan and others to the Abbey of Kells.
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Within the castle nor without To offer fight or combat Without the help of the earl. When the English were gone And had abandoned their house,
... He caused all his men to be summoned Throughout Leinster speedily. When they were all assembled, Old and young, ruddy and fair, Towards Trim they resolvaed to march To encounter the Northerners. But before the noble earl Arrived with his men, Hugh had of a truth Utterly abandoned his charge, Because he was not in sufficient force
The Irish arrived at Trim.
Their numbers I shall by no means tell. How many they were nor what thousands, For I should be thought to be lying. The rampart they threw completely down And levelled it even with the ground, But first of all they put The house to flames.
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Newgrange, Co.Meath
Newgrange The tumulus of
Newgrange is one of the four great sepulchral mounds on the banks of the river Boyne, in the county of Meath. Was built in such a way that at the winter solstice, a small beam of sunlight for a very short time illuminates the floor of the chamber at the end of the long and narrow passageway. 26
Who spreads light in the gathering on the hills? Who can tell the ages of the moon? Who can tell the place where the sun rests? 27
The harp that once through Tara’s halls The soul of music shed Now hangs as mute on Tara’s walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory’s thrill is over, And hearts, that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more. No more to chiefs and ladies bright The harp of Tara swells; The chord alone, that breaks at night, Its tale of ruin tells. Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes, The only throb she gives Is when some heart indignant breaks, To show that still she lives.
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The stone which is under my two heels, from it is named Inisfail; Between two shores of a mighty flood, the plain of Fรกl on all Ireland.
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The Round Tower and St. Kevin’s Church Glendalough, Co.Wicklow In the youth of summer The hills of Cualann Are two golden horns, Two breasts of childing, Two tents of light.
In the age of winter They are two rusted swords, Two waves of darkness, Two moons of ice.
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Glendalough, Reefert Church, Co.Wic
klow
Wicklow Mountains 31
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... t of Love complain? Oh, who art thou who dares jures none! He is a gentle spirit and in the bitter pain, His foes are ours; from them e heart-rending groan, The keen, deep anguish, th are never known. Which in his milder reign e April showers, His tears are softer than th pports his throne, White-handed Innocence su th of earliest flowers, His sighs are sweet as brea wers.� , and peace protects his bo ps ste s hi s ide gu n tio fec Af ...
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Clare Cork Kerry Limerick Tipperary and Waterford
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Royal and saintly Cashel! I would gaze Upon the wreck of thy departed powers, Not in the dewy light of matin hours, Nor the meridian pomp of summer’s blaze, But at the close of dim autumnal days, When the sun’s parting glance, through slanting showers, Sheds over thy rock-throned battlements and towers Such awful gleams as brighten over Decay’s Prophetic cheek. At such a time, methinks, There breathes from thy lone courts and voiceless aisles A melancholy moral, such as sinks On the lone traveller’s heart, amid the piles Of vast Persepolis on her mountain stand, Or Thebes half buried in the desert sand.
Rock of Cashel, Co.Tipperary 39
... Through the rent roof the aged ivy creeps; Stretched on the floor the skulking fox is found; The drowsy owl beneath the altar sleeps, And the pert daws keep chattering all around; The hissing weasel lurks apart unseen, And slimy reptiles crawl where holy heads have been. ...
Timoleague Abbey Courtmacsherry Bay, Co.Cork
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Drombeg stone circle, The Druid’s Altar Glandore, Co.Cork
Drombeg is one of a stone circles which were built in the Cork/Kerry region during the Bronze age.
Consists of seventeen stones, and two of these stones were orientated towards the Solar cycle in midwinter sunset.
A Fulacht fiadh lie just 40m west of the stone circle
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Dunboy Castle, Beara Peninsula, Co.Cork
Views from the Healy Pass Caha Mountains, Beara Peninsula, Co.Cork
... The slanting sunbeams tip with gold The emerald leaves in the forests old But I must away from this fairy scene, Those leafy woods and those valley s green! ...
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... I am the wind on the sea I am the wave of the sea ...
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Clear Island, Co.Cork 45
Uragh stone circle Beara Peninsula, Co.Kerry
I invoke the land of Ireland. Much-coursed be the fertile sea, fertile be the fruit-strewn mountain, fruit-strewn be the showery wood, showery be the river of waterfalls, of waterfalls be the lake of deep pools, deep pooled be the hill-top wall, a well of tribes be the assembly, an assembly of kings be Tara, Tara be a hill of the tribes, the tribes of the sons of Mil,
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of Mil of the ships, the barks, let the lofty bark be Ireland, lofty Ireland, darkly (sung), an incantation of great cunning; the great cunning of the wives of Bres, the wives of Bres of Buaigne; the great lady Ireland, Eremon hath conquered her, Ir, Eber have invoked for her. I invoke the land of Ireland.
Ballycrovane Ogham Stone Beara Peninsula, Co.Cork
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Eyeries, Beara Peninsula, Co.Cor
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Iveragh Peninsula, Co.Kerry
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Skellig islands
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... Perhaps the wildest scene on the southern coast is presented by the Skelligs Rocks, off Dingle Bay, rising as pinnacles of slate, windswept and bare. The cliffs seem painted in bands of cream colour, produced by countless crowds of gannets most powerful of gulls sitting on their nests on the ledges of cliff. At the sound of an approaching steamer, the air is filled with a swarm of puffins, or sea-parrots, which fly heavily around the crags; while, from the caves on the lower cliffs, like crowds of the smaller gulls fill the air with their shrill, screaming cry. ...
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The Skellig Islands, Skellig Michael, Co.Kerry.
... And the ship that Donn, son of Miled, was in command of was parted from the others by the dint of the storm, and was broken in pieces, and he himself and all with him were drowned, four-and-twenty men and women in all. And Ir, son of Miled, came to his death in the same way, and his body was cast on the shore, and it was buried in a small island that is now called Sceilg Michill. ...
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“The wind is fierce tonight. It tosses the sea’s white hair. , sailing the quiet main”
Vikings
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I fear no wild
Skellig Michael, Co.Kerry.
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Gallarus Oratory, Dingle Penin
sula, Co.Kerry
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Slea Head, Dingle Peninsula, Co.Kerry
Connor Pass Dingle Peninsula Co.Kerry 62
... St Brendan then embarked, and they set sail towards the summer solstice. They had a fair wind, and therefore no labour, only to keep the sails properly set. ...
Brandon Creek, Dingle Peninsula, Co.Kerry
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Whilst Dublin and Waterford could boast of superior advantages from their closer proximity to the sea, Limerick possessed an admitted superiority in other respects. It commanded a noble river, crowded with fish, which bore the ships of the strangers in safety into the interior of a wealthy country, which with many other recommendations, made a strong impression in after times on King John of England, and caused the city of Limerick long to retain its pride of place as
�the fairest of all the cities in Munster�.
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King John’s Castle, Limerick 67
... In the day of Noah I was green; After his flood I’ve not been seen Until seventeen hundred and two, I was found, By Cormac Kelly, under ground; He raised me up to that degree, Queen of Music they call me. ...
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Bunratty Castle and The River Ratty, Co.Clare 70
Tilled are the winds, scarce heard far ocean’s roar; And maiden waves creep coyly to the shore, Tinged with the purest blush of closing even. Behold yon hills that catch the glow of heaven! Those shadows purpling over the watery scene, Now streaked with gold, now tinged with tender green, And yon bright path that burns along the deep, Ere the sun sinks behind his western steep! Soft fades the parting glory through the sky, Commingling with the cool aerial dye. Light barks, with dusky sails, scarce seen to glide, Bend their brown shadows over the burnished tide; And hark! at intervals the sound of oars Comes, faint with distance, to the listening shores, Blent with the plaintive cadence of the song Of boatmen chanting as they drift along; But see, the radiant orb now sinks apace, Gradual and slow he stoops his glorious face; And now but half his swelling disk appears, And now how quickly gone! he scarcely rears One burning point above the mountain’s head, And now the last expiring beam has fled.
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Poulnabrone Dolmen, portal tomb in the Burren, Co.Clare
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ms, ... yond all drea e b d n la e th ve ever seen. a Delightful is h s e y e e in ught th on the tree, Fairer than a is it u fr e th r yea er. There all the is on the flow m o lo b e th r ea And all the y forest trees; e th p ri d y e n il. ild ho shall never fa There with w d a e m d n a e win weller there, d e th The stores of s w o n k sickness never more. im Nor pain nor h r a e n e cay com Death and de se shall tire, a h c e th r o n ll cloy not, ; The feast sha rough the hall th r e v e r fo e s a outh Nor music ce the Land of Y y man. f o ls e w je d med b The gold an urs ever drea o d n le p s ll a Outshine d, the fairy bree f o s e rs o h e v e wind; Thou shalt ha hounds that can outrun th ve Thou shalt ha w thee in war, o ll fo ll a h s iefs p. A hundred ch ee to thy slee th g in s s n e aid A hundred m wear, y brow shall th n ig re e v o . s A crown of de shall hang la b ic g a m a ide th, And by thy s e Land of You th ll a f o rd lo . Thou shalt be Head of Gold e th f o m ia N And lord of ...
Cliffs of Moher, Co.Clare 79
Galway Leitrim Mayo Roscommon and Sligo
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Aughnanure Castle, Oughterard, Co.Galway
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I am Raftery the poet, Full of hope and love. With eyes that have no light. With gentleness that has no misery. Going west upon my pilgrimage Guided by the light of my heart. Feeble and tired. To the end of my road. Behold me now, And my face to a wall, A-playing music, Unto empty pockets.
The Bogs, Connemara, Co.Galway
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Connemara, Co.Galway
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Connemara, Co.Galway
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I am in Aranmor, sitting over a turf fire, listening to a murmur of Gaelic that is rising from a little public-house under my room.
“The Giant� of Dun Aengus 90
Dun Aengus, Inishmore, Aran Islands, Co.Galway
Views from Dun Aengus, Inishmore, Aran Islands, Co.Galway 91
Kylemore Lough, Connemara, Co.Galway
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Connemara, Co.Galway
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Delphi Valley, Co.Mayo 99
Dun Briste, a Sea-stack off Downpatrick Head Ballycastle, Co.Mayo
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On the deck of Patrick Lynch’s boat I sat in woful plight, Through my sighing all the weary day and weeping all the night; Were it not that full of sorrow from my people forth I go, By the blessed sun! tis royally I’d sing thy praise, Mayo! When I dwelt at home in plenty, and my gold did much abound, In the company of fair young maids the Spanish ale went round Tis a bitter change from those gay days that now I’m forced to go And must leave my bones in Santa Cruz, far from my own Mayo. They are alter’d girls in Irrul now; tis proud they’re grown and high, With their hair-bags and their top-knots, for I pass their buckles by But it’s little now I heed their airs, for God will have it so, That I must depart for foreign lands and leave my sweet Mayo. Tis my grief that Patrick Loughlin is not Earl of Irrul still, And that Brian Duff no longer rules as Lord upon the hill: And that Colonel Hugh McGrady should be lying dead and low, And I sailing, sailing swiftly from the county of Mayo.
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During the period of St. Patrick's sojourn in Connaught, he retired on the approach of Lent to the mountain of Croaghpatrick, and there spent some time in fasting and prayer. Is now one of Ireland's most celebrated legends, namely, that the saint brought together on the top of the mountain all the serpents and venomous creatures and demons of Ireland, and drove them into the sea. There is a deep hollow on the northern face of the mountain, called to this day Lugnademon, the lug or hollow of the demons, into which they all retreated on their way to final banishment.
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Clew Bay and Croagh Patrick, Co.Mayo
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Ben Bulben from Drumcliff Chu
rchyard, Co.Sligo
Under the shadow of Benbulben
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Where dips the rocky highland Of Sleuth Wood in the lake, There lies a leafy island Where flapping herons wake The drowsy water rats; There we’ve hid our faery vats, Full of berrys And of reddest stolen cherries. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.
The Stolen Child
Where the wave of moonlight glosses The dim gray sands with light, Far off by furthest Rosses We foot it all the night, Weaving olden dances Mingling hands and mingling glances Till the moon has taken flight; To and fro we leap And chase the frothy bubbles, While the world is full of troubles And anxious in its sleep. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand. Where the wandering water gushes From the hills above Glen-Car, In pools among the rushes That scarce could bathe a star, We seek for slumbering trout And whispering in their ears Give them unquiet dreams; Leaning softly out From ferns that drop their tears Over the young streams. Come away, O human child! To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand. Away with us he’s going, The solemn-eyed: He’ll hear no more the lowing Of the calves on the warm hillside Or the kettle on the hob Sing peace into his breast, Or see the brown mice bob Round and round the oatmeal chest. For he comes, the human child, To the waters and the wild With a faery, hand in hand, For the world’s more full of weeping than he can understand.
W. B. Yeats Memorial Sligo Town
Glencar Waterfall, Co.Leitrim
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Waiting on the Shore, Rosses Point, Co.Sligo 108
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Carrowkeel, Neolithic passage tomb cemetery Bricklieve Mountains, Co.Sligo 111
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But though Ailell was king, Maev was the ruler in truth, and ordered all things as she wished, and took what husbands she wished, and dismissed them at pleasure; for she was as fierce and strong as a goddess of war, and knew no law but her own wild will.
She was tall, it is said, with a long, pale face and masses of hair yellow as ripe corn. ...
Knocknarea with a Carrowmore tomb in the foreground, Co.Sligo
Antrim Armagh Down Fermanagh Derry Tyrone Cavan Donegal and Monaghan
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hough the span of my life were but for a day,”- Cuchulain said, -
“little should I reck of that, if but my noble deeds might be remembered among men.”
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Teelin Bay, Co.Donegal
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Hawk in St. John’s Point Co.Donegal
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is one of the oldest celtic crosses in Ireland. The Killaghtee Cross
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Glencolumbkille, Co.Donegal 122
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Kilcklooney dolmen, Co.Donegal
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The Western Wind blows free and far Beneath a lovely Evening Star Across the ocean vague and vast, And sweeps that Island Bay at last; Blows over cliff there, over sand, Over mountain-guarded land, Rocky pastures, lonely lakes, Rushing River that forsakes His inland calm to find the tide; Homes where Men in turn abide; And blows into my heart with thrills, Remembered thrills of love and joy. I see thee, Star, above the hills And waves, as though again a Boy, And yet through mist of tears. O shine In other hearts, as once in mine, And thou, Atlantic Wind, blow free For others now, as once for me! 128
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Glenveagh, Co.Donegal
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... Dark over the foam-white waves, The giants’ pier the war of tempests braves, A far projecting, firm, basaltic way Of clustering columns wedged in dense array; With skill so like, yet so surpassing art, With such design, so just in every part That reason pauses, doubtful if it stand The work of mortal, or immortal hand. ...
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Fionn mac Cumhaill, the great
hero of Irish romance, and who, according to some traditions, rose to the enormous stature of 15 cubits, became the imaginary architect. The columnar appearance of the little island of Stafta which lies nearly in the same meridian, suggested the idea that it had formerly been connected to the shores of Port Noflcr, and that the object of the Irish Titans, in the construction of so stupendous a work, was to facilitate their march to the Hebrides, to chastise the inhabitants of those islands, for their predatory excursions to the shores of Ireland.
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Giant’s Causeway, Co.Antrim
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Perplexed in wild amazement’s trance, The stranger roamed on Antrim’s shore; And now had fed his raptured glance From Fairhead Point to Cape Bengore. Enthusiast! he had often sighed Those rude romantic scenes to view; For there, in days of Erin’s pride, The Red-Branch of his fathers grew. Proud, towering over the angry main, Bleak Fairhead frowns in high disdain;
Dunluce Castle, between Portballintrae and Portrush, Co.Antrim
And throws aloft his savage front, As daring heaven’s empyreal brunt. Against his scarred and cragged breast A thousand fractured columns rest; But not a plant that drinks the air Relieves their greyness chill and bare. Beneath, his steady feet sustain An everlasting hurricane: For there, in wildest fury frantic, For ever roars the vast Atlantic. ...
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Dunluce Castle Whiterocks Beach, Portrush, Co.Antrim
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They stole little Bridget For seven years long; When she came down again Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back, Between the night and morrow; They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow. They have kept her ever since Deep within the lake, On a bed of flag-leaves, Watching till she wake.
Up the fairy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren’t go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl’s feather! Down along the rocky shore Some make their home, They live on crispy pancakes Of yellow tide-foam; Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake.
By the craggy hill-side, Through the mosses bare, They have planted thorn-trees, For pleasure here and there. Is any man so daring As dig them up in spite, He shall find their sharpest thorns In his bed at night.
High on the hill-top The old King sits; He is now so old and gray, He’s nigh lost his wits. With a bridge of white mist Columbkill he crosses, On his stately journeys From Slieve League to Rosses; Or going up with music On cold starry nights, To sup with the Queen Of the gay Northern Lights.
Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren’t go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl’s feather!
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Knocknashee, Co.Sligo Legendary Hill of the Faeries, one of the seven sacred hills in Ireland.
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Twas the grey of the evening when Shaun came over The mountain’s shoulder by Torloch’s Tower, Like clustered pearls lay the dew on the clover, One pale star burned through that dew grey hour. He came to the Fairy Well of Slemish, In the cool, green moss like a gem it lay; And he thought of the girl without blame or blemish, The dark, proud girl who had said him “Nay.” He stooped to drink of the sweet well water; To the moss grown stones he bent a knee. “Oh, sweet as the kiss of a High King’s Daughter, Is the Well of Forgetfulness,”said he. “Oh, sweeter far than the sweet well water Are the lips of Love,” said a voice, and he Looked up and beheld the High King’s Daughter, Of Tir-na-noge in the Realms of Shee. “Drink three deep draughts,” said the High King’s Daughter, “And the wish of your heart I can give,” said she, “Oh I have drunk deep of the sweet well water, And the wish of my heart is yourself,” said he. He kissed her lips, as the poppies scarlet, He made her heart on his heart to lie, While a rain of tears that one gold star let Fall through the dusk down the opal sky. Then away with them over the purple heather, By dark fir-wood and by starlit brae; Their silvery laughter ringing together And nor sight nor sing of them since that day.
Slemish Hill Ballymena Co.Antrim 145
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Layd Church Cushendall, Co.Antrim 148
Faeries in Glenarm Fo res
t, Co.Antrim
A pot still still used inis a type of spirits such distilling or branadsy.whisky
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... Mickey Maloney ducked his head when a bucket of whiskey flew at him It missed, and falling on the bed, the liquor scattered over Tim Now the spirits new life gave the corpse, my joy! Tim jumped like a Trojan from the bed Cryin will ye walup each girl and boy, thunderin’ Jaysus, do ye think I’m dead? ...
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Maamturk Mountains, Connemara, Co.Galway 154
About the Author. AndrÊs Hurtado is Spanish, he is an art director at an advertising company, graphic designer, illustrator, amateur photographer and digital artist specialized in image manipulation and 3D environment creation. Fascinated by Ireland since he first discovered the beauty and culture of the country with his family he hasn’t stopped returning summer after summer, and as a result of those journeys he has gathered a great amount of drawings, photographs and personal experiences which have linked him indefinitely to the Emerald Isle. Impressed by its amazing scenery, its culture, its people and its customs, he decided to put together all the graphic information collected from his journeys to create The Magic of Ireland using different techniques: photo retouching, matte painting, traditional drawing, digital drawing and painting, graphic design and 3D, together with old texts, legends and poems which make up a fascinating illustrated journey across Ireland.
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bibliography 14-15. Letts. W. M. The West Wind. Songs from Leinster. Smith, Elder & Co. 1914.
68. Edward Bunting. The Ancient Music of Ireland, VOL III (excerpt). Hodges & Smith, Dublin. 1840.
20. Celtic illuminative art in the gospel books of Durrow, Lindisfarne, and Kells (1908). Robinson, Stanford Frederick Hudson, 1869, Dublin, Hodges, Figgis, & co., limited.
71. Sir Aubrey de Vere. Sunset on the lower Shannon. Poems of places. Edited by Henry W. Longfellow. Boston: James R. Osgood and Company, 1876.
25. Unknown. The Earl arrives at Trim. The Song of Dermot and the Earl. Edited with literal translation and notes a facsimile and a map by Goddard Henry Orpen. The Clarendon Press. 1892.
77. Thomas W. Rolleston. Oisin in the land of youth, Chapter XV. The High Deeds of Finn and other Bardic Romances of Ancient Ireland. George G. Harrap, 1910.
26-27. Lady Gregory. Gods and Fighting Men, [1904] Part 1, Book 3.
84. Douglas Hyde. Songs Ascribed to Raftery. Being the fifth chapter of The Songs Of Connacht. 1903.
28. Thomas Moore. The harp that once through Tara’s halls. Poems of Places. Edited by Henry W. Longfellow. James R. Osgood and Company. 1876.
90. John M. Singe. The Aran Islands. 1907 101. George Fox. The County of Mayo, From the Irish of Thomas Lavelle. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250-1900. Arthur QuillerCouch, 1904.
29. Geoffrey Keating. The History of Ireland. Translated and preface by David Comyn, Patrick S. Dinneen. CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts: a project of University College, Cork. 2002, 2010. http://www.ucc.ie/celt
103. Joyce, P. W. The origin and history of Irish names of places. London Longmans, Green & Co. 1910
30. Joseph Campbell. Earth Of Cualann. Maunsel And Company, Ltd. Dublin and London. 1917.
106. W. B. Yeats. The Stolen Child. Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry. Edited and selected by W. B. Yeats. London: Walter Scott, 1888.
33. Mary Tighe. Psyche, or the Legend of Love, Canto III (excerpt). H. G. Clarke and Co. 1844.
108-109. Waiting on the Shore, Rosses Point, Co.Sligo.
39. Sir Aubrey De Vere. The Rock of Cashel. A treasure of irish poetry in the english tongue. Edited by Stopford A. Brooke and T. W. Rolleston. The Macmillan Company. 1910.
113. Thomas W. Rolleston. Queen Maev. Chapter V: Tales of the Ultonian Cycle. Myths and Legends of the Celtic Race. Thomas Y. Crowell Company Publishers, 1911.
40. JThomas Moore. The harp that once through Tara’s halls. Poems of Places. Edited by Henry W. Longfellow. James R. Osgood and Company. 1876. 41. Geoffrey Keating. The History of Ireland. Translated and preface by David Comyn, Patrick S. Dinneen.
117. Eleanor Hull. Cuchulain, the hound of Ulster, illustrated by Stephen Reid, and published by Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., New York. 128. William Allingham. The Western Wind. Irish Songs and Poems. London: Reeves and Turner, 1887.
43. Denis Florence MacCarthy. The Banished Spirit’s Song (excerpt). Poems by Denis Florence MacCarthy. M. H. Gill and Son. 1882.
134. William Hamilton Drummond. The Giant’s Causeway: a poem (excerpt). Belfast, Printed by J. Smith for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme & Browne. 1811.
44. Lady Gregory. Gods and Fighting Men, [1904] (excerpt). 46. Leabhar gabhála, the Book of conquests of Ireland (1916).
135. William Hamilton Drummond. The Giant’s Causeway: a poem (excerpt from the preface). Belfast, Printed by J. Smith for Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme & Browne. 1811.
53. Mansfield, Milburg Francisco; McManus, Blanche. Romantic Ireland. Boston L.C. Page, 1905
138. Quillinan, Edward. Dunluce Castle, a poem (excerpt from Part. I). Edited by Sir Egerton Brydges, 1814.
54. Gods And Fighting Men: Part I Book III: The Landing (excerpt). The Story Of The Tuatha De Danaan and of The Fianna of Ireland, Arranged and put Into English by Lady Gregory. With a Preface by W.B. Yeats. London, J. Murray, 1904.
140. William Allingham. The Fairies. Irish Songs and Poems. London: Reeves and Turner, 1887.
57. The Vikings & Ireland. One well-known comment on the Vikings occurs in a marginal poem in that manuscript (Stokes & Strachan 1903, XIX-XXIII, 290; Thurneysen 1949, 39; Carney 1967, 22-23)
145. Cathal O’ Byrne. The Fairy Well of Slemish. The grey feet of the wind: poems. Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1917. 151. Finnegan’s Wake ballad (excerpt).
61. The Voyage of St Brendan the Abbot (excerpt). Translator: Denis O’Donoghue Published: D. O’Donoghue, Brendaniana. 1893. 66. Limerick, its history and antiquities; ecclesiastical, civil, and military,from the earliest ages, with copious historical, archaeological, topographical, and genealogical notes (1884). Lenihan, Maurice, 18111895. Dublin, James Duffy & sons.
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acknowledgments CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts: a project of University College, Cork. http://www.ucc.ie/celt
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ing journey The Magic of Ireland takes you on a fascinat where real places around Ireland through lavish illustrations times, places come together with reproductions of ancient re ancient legends that will capture you with their magic, whe ndour, where and the finest verses resound in all their sple the Emerald Isle. dreams and reality voyage together across expertise The author displays his technical and artistic and painting, through traditional drawing, digital drawing r his personal photography and 3D. He invites us to discove of the island vision of some of the most renowned places him with their as well as various locations which captivated beauty and magic.