Soothing Croon from Eigg, Ciod è a ghaoil a tha ort

Soothing Croon from Eigg, Ciod è a ghaoil a tha ort eBook: Marjory Kennedy- Fraser, Traditional: leondumoulin.nl: Kindle Store.
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Add a review and share your thoughts with other readers. J Literally, "the mean one. Old Gaelic words and tune from the Gesto Collection. A - vore, my love!. A S JLT rfw dim. A Mhor a shdgh!. A Mhor a shogh!. Than The each-uisge or water horse had, in the form of a man, married a young woman named Moi. Copyrigbi by M. A Mhor a ghaoil! A - vore, my loveL— A Mhor a shogh! Wanting com-fort, our ba be is c ry-ing b y the l och.


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Skye water kelpie's lullaby. A - vore, my bride!. A Mhor a shogh! A - vore, my heart! A ho ho-an A ho ho. God the Fa - ther with do in shuain. Miry be cut to sign on f Mary be cut to sign H; on p In name of the three in one, Peace to thy phian-tan Tha pain. Later on, the rite passed into the hands of seanairean a' bhaile, the elders of the township, and the tnnathan-tuiridh, the mourning-women, the latter eventually developing into a professional class, whose services could aways be obtained for a consideration.

In more recent times, the bean-ghlitin, the knee-woman, the midwife, was also the bean-tuiridh, the mourning-woman, and as the friend of the folk in the coming and the going of life, was regarded with the greatest veneration both by young and by old. To this day the knee-woman of the isles chants her runes and celebrates her mysteries in the houses of birth and of death, but always with closed doors — metaphorically, at any rate. As recently as eighteen years ago, a Death-croon was chanted over a dying person in the Island of Eigg.

An ceo 's an druchd, An druchd 's an ced. An ceo 's an druchd An suil mo ghraidh, An suil mo ghraidh, A Thi dh'" fhosgail an t-suil 6g, Dun i an nochd an eld a' bhais, An eld a' bhais. The mist the dew, The dew the mist. The mist the dew In the eye of my love. In ithe eye of my love. Thou who did'st open the young eye, Close it to-night in the sleep of death, In the -sleep of death. From the nineteenth to the sixth century is a far cry, but the Death-croon brings the two together.


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Donnan of Eigg and fifty of his muinntir, his disciples, had suffered martyrdom at the hands of the Queen of the Isle, and were sleeping their first night's death-sleep in the churchyard now known as Cill-Donnain. At midnight solus an high, a blessed light, was seen above the graves, and voices were heard chanting a croon of which only a few lines have been handed down.

Soothing Croon from Eigg, Ciod è a ghaoil a tha ort Sheet Music by Traditional

Suil bhlath Chriosd air an uir, Reulta na h-iarmailt air an uir, Cha bheud cha bheud a dh' uir Donnain. Early gives the sun greeting to Donnan, Early sings the bird the greatness of DoiSnan, Early grows the grass on the grave of Donnan, The warm eye of Christ on the grave, The stars of the heavens on the grave. No harm, no harm to Donnan's dust. And said the old folk of Eigg: The Queen and her maidens saw the light and heard the singing and, way of the women!

In the isles the black loch among the hills is always associated with death and unholy deeds and croons. The sea, with its ebb and its flow, is suggestive of life. If it has the terrible strength, it has also the nobility, of the lion. But the loch among the hills is a snake — black and slimy, with death in its eye. On a night there was, it befell a fiears-eaglais, a cleric, to be returning from the hill to the shore-clachan, and what came upon him but the weather of the seven elements — and what can be worse than that!

Since he could not do better, he did the best he could, and his only choice being an evil, he took shelter in a cave under a rock.

Soothing Croon from Eigg, Ciod è a ghaoil a tha ort | Sheet Music Now

He had not been long there when a great white lightning sudden-flashed before his two eyes, and in the glare he saw a deep black loch between two precipices ; and O Blessed Being of the Graces! Is moch a chuireas a ghrian failt air Strodha. Early gives the sun greeting to Strodha.

Ospag, ospag, fhir a th' ann! Ars' am baobh maol glas: Ars' am baobh caol buidhe: Said the lean black wizard: Torture, torture, man that be! Over there, over there, Thou shalt be bound, thou shalt be bound, Wasps to-day, midges to-morrow, Eating thee, itching thee, tumouring thee, Over there, over there, Man that be.

Said the bald grey wizard: Over there, over there. Thou shalt be bound, thou shalt be bound, A raven above thee, a thistle in thine eye, A venom-serpent coming nigh, coming nigh, Over there, over there, Man that be. Said the sjeek yellow wizard: Thou shalt be bound, thou shalt be bound, Wind a-freezing through the willows, Stinging cold like scalding water, Over there, over there, Man that was. From the hills, the last refuge of paganism, the Death-croon leads us to the sea and the Iona coracles.

A world of years ago said an old Eigg woman , 6 long long before Prince Charlie landed in Moidart, the folk there were fierce and dark and ignorant ; they kept BealUainn, Beltane, better than Christmas or Easter Sunday, and O Mary Mother, sain us from evil! Columba of my love heard of this, and it gave him a sore heart that people should be so far in their own light as to turn their back on heaven and the saints— sure, he was ever the dilleagan, the beauteous-one, son of a king and grandson of a king, and he might have been a king himself, had that been his wish — but to get back to my tale, he sent two of his monks to Moidart to teach the folk there the good Christian ways of the church.

But were they not the foolish ones, the folk of Moidart! They would not listen to the monks, and at last the younger of the two said: And the older monk began to chant the Death-croon over the dead, but I do not know what the words were, for it is said he never chanted that croon again, but always a better one. Before he was through with it, the eyes of the baby boy were upon him. O treasure of my heart, miserable creatures like us may not know what passed between the Blessed Mary and her Son and the monks of Iona — but, at any rate, the two men returned to their coracle and made a hole in her.

One of their worst curses went forth disguised as a blessing: