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The Irish Literary Revival, 1880-1928. Dr. Michael McAteer. Irish Mythology – Cuchulain and the Red Branch Nights of Ulster. Irish Mythology – Oisín , Niamh and the Fianna. Women and Irish Mythology - Deirdre. Women and Irish Mythology – Queen Maeve. Standish O’Grady.
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The Irish Literary Revival, 1880-1928 Dr. Michael McAteer
IrishMythology – Cuchulain and the Red BranchNights of Ulster
Cathleen ni Houlihan(1902) ‘Many that are red-cheeked will now be pale-cheeked’
‘Who Goes with Fergus?’ Who will drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood’s woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man lift up your russet brow, And lift your tender eyelids, maid, And brood on hopes and fears no more.
‘The Song of Wandering Aengus’ Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
Spreading the News (1904) MrsTarpey. Whatdidyousayshewasdoing? ShawnEarly. Laying out a sheetonthehedge. (He goes) MrsTarpey. Laying out a sheetforthedead! The Lord havemercyonus! Jack Smith dead, and hiswifelaying out a sheetforhisburying! . . . Isn’tthedeafnessthegreathardship? Halftheworldmight be deadwithoutmeknowing of itorgettingwordofitatall!
Pegeen. Wouldyouhavemeknockthehead of youwiththebuttofthebroom? Christy. Don’tstrikeme. I killedmypoorfather, Tuesdaywas a week, fordoingthelike of that. Pegeen. Is itkilledyourfather? Christy. Withthehelp of God I didsurely, and thattheHolyImmaculateMothermayintercedeforhissoul.
‘Easter 1916’ And whatifexcess of love Bewilderedthemtilltheydied? I writeit out in a verse – MacDonagh and MacBride And ConnollyandPearse Now and intimeto be, Wherevergreen is worn, Arechanged, changedutterly: A terriblebeauty is born.
Lieut. Langon. Th’ time is rottenripeforrevolution. Clitheroe. Youhave a mother, Langon. Lieut. Langon. Ireland is greaterthan a mother. Capt. Brennan. Youhave a wife, Clitheroe. Clitheroe. Ireland is greaterthan a wife.
Nora. An’ there’s no woman gives a son or a husband to be killed – if they say it, they’re lyin’, against God, Nature, an’ against themselves!