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The Destruction of Da Dergas Hostel
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4513701The Destruction of Da Dergas Hostelhttps://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-destruction-of-da-derga-s-hostel-9781613102619/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/4217739/23790e59-a38c-4efb-8069-00e108d8519d.jpg?v=638843650849430000122135MXNLibrary of AlexandriaInStock/Ebooks/4351688The Destruction of Da Dergas Hostel122135https://www.gandhi.com.mx/the-destruction-of-da-derga-s-hostel-9781613102619/phttps://gandhi.vtexassets.com/arquivos/ids/4217739/23790e59-a38c-4efb-8069-00e108d8519d.jpg?v=638843650849430000InStockMXN99999DIEbook20259781613102619_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_<p>There was a famous and noble king over Erin, named Eochaid Feidlech. Once upon a time he came over the fairgreen of Bri Leith, and he saw at the edge of a well a woman with a bright comb of silver adorned with gold, washing in a silver basin wherein were four golden birds and little, bright gems of purple carbuncle in the rims of the basin. A mantle she had, curly and purple, a beautiful cloak, and in the mantle silvery fringes arranged, and a brooch of fairest gold. A kirtle she wore, long, hooded, hard-smooth, of green silk, with red embroidery of gold. Marvellous clasps of gold and silver in the kirtle on her breasts and her shoulders and spaulds on every side. The sun kept shining upon her, so that the glistening of the gold against the sun from the green silk was manifest to men. On her head were two golden-yellow tresses, in each of which was a plait of four locks, with a bead at the point of each lock. The hue of that hair seemed to them like the flower of the iris in summer, or like red gold after the burnishing thereof. There she was, undoing her hair to wash it, with her arms out through the sleeve-holes of her smock. White as the snow of one night were the two hands, soft and even, and red as foxglove were the two clear-beautiful cheeks. Dark as the back of a stag-beetle the two eyebrows. Like a shower of pearls were the teeth in her head. Blue as a hyacinth were the eyes. Red as rowan-berries the lips. Very high, smooth and soft-white the shoulders. Clear-white and lengthy the fingers. Long were the hands. White as the foam of a wave was the flank, slender, long, tender, smooth, soft as wool. Polished and warm, sleek and white were the two thighs. Round and small, hard and white the two knees. Short and white and rulestraight the two shins. Justly straight and beautiful the two heels. If a measure were put on the feet it would hardly have found them unequal, unless the flesh of the coverings should grow upon them. The bright radiance of the moon was in her noble face: the loftiness of pride in her smooth eyebrows: the light of wooing in each of her regal eyes. A dimple of delight in each of her cheeks, with a dappling (?) in them, at one time, of purple spots with redness of a calfs blood, and at another with the bright lustre of snow. Soft womanly dignity in her voice; a step steady and slow she had: a queenly gait was hers. Verily, of the worlds women twas she was the dearest and loveliest and justest that the eyes of men had ever beheld. It seemed to King Eochaid and his followers that she was from the elfmounds. Of her was said: Shapely are all till compared with Etein, Dear are all till compared with Etein. A longing for her straightway seized the king; so he sent forward a man of his people to detain her. The king asked tidings of her and said, while announcing himself: Shall I have an hour of dalliance with thee? Tis for that we have come hither under thy safeguard, quoth she</p>(*_*)9781613102619_<p>There was a famous and noble king over Erin, named Eochaid Feidlech. Once upon a time he came over the fairgreen of Bri Leith, and he saw at the edge of a well a woman with a bright comb of silver adorned with gold, washing in a silver basin wherein were four golden birds and little, bright gems of purple carbuncle in the rims of the basin. A mantle she had, curly and purple, a beautiful cloak, and in the mantle silvery fringes arranged, and a brooch of fairest gold. A kirtle she wore, long, hooded, hard-smooth, of green silk, with red embroidery of gold. Marvellous clasps of gold and silver in the kirtle on her breasts and her shoulders and spaulds on every side. The sun kept shining upon her, so that the glistening of the gold against the sun from the green silk was manifest to men. On her head were two golden-yellow tresses, in each of which was a plait of four locks, with a bead at the point of each lock. The hue of that hair seemed to them like the flower of the iris in summer, or like red gold after the burnishing thereof. There she was, undoing her hair to wash it, with her arms out through the sleeve-holes of her smock. White as the snow of one night were the two hands, soft and even, and red as foxglove were the two clear-beautiful cheeks. Dark as the back of a stag-beetle the two eyebrows. Like a shower of pearls were the teeth in her head. Blue as a hyacinth were the eyes. Red as rowan-berries the lips. Very high, smooth and soft-white the shoulders. Clear-white and lengthy the fingers. Long were the hands. White as the foam of a wave was the flank, slender, long, tender, smooth, soft as wool. Polished and warm, sleek and white were the two thighs. Round and small, hard and white the two knees. Short and white and rulestraight the two shins. Justly straight and beautiful the two heels. If a measure were put on the feet it would hardly have found them unequal, unless the flesh of the coverings should grow upon them. The bright radiance of the moon was in her noble face: the loftiness of pride in her smooth eyebrows: the light of wooing in each of her regal eyes. A dimple of delight in each of her cheeks, with a dappling (?) in them, at one time, of purple spots with redness of a calfs blood, and at another with the bright lustre of snow. Soft womanly dignity in her voice; a step steady and slow she had: a queenly gait was hers. Verily, of the worlds women twas she was the dearest and loveliest and justest that the eyes of men had ever beheld. It seemed to King Eochaid and his followers that she was from the elfmounds. Of her was said: "Shapely are all till compared with Etein," "Dear are all till compared with Etein." A longing for her straightway seized the king; so he sent forward a man of his people to detain her. The king asked tidings of her and said, while announcing himself: "Shall I have an hour of dalliance with thee?" "Tis for that we have come hither under thy safeguard," quoth she</p>...(*_*)9781613102619_<p>Of course it was not good taste in Ajax to brag so loudly of being the great-grandson of Jupiter, but then Ulysses need not have snubbed him so fiercely, and then gone on to show how he, too, was god-born, but on the mothers side as well as on the fathers. Nor was it quite consistent in Ovid, who struggled so proudly for his privileges as eques in the theatre, to clothe these Socialist sentiments in a pair of hexameter lines; but then, in spite of that little flirtation with a naughty Princess, which caused his banishment, Ovid was a Radical and a poet, which gave him a double claim to inconsistency. The sentiment is, as it seems to me, utterly false and untrue to the very nature of man. From the earliest times, and even in the most savage races, men have been proud of such ancestry as they could lay claim to, and many a poor peasant loves to tell you that he is living in the cottage that his forebears have held for generations. Pride of Race and Pride of Country go hand-in-hand as two forms of Patriotism. In 1862 poor Laurence Oliphant and Ihe, the most charming of companions, just beginning to be bitten by mysticismwere travelling together on the Continent. He was still suffering from the cruel wounds which he received in the night attack by Rnins on the Legation at Yedo in 1861. He had been ordered to drink the iron waters of Spa, and I agreed to go with him for my summer holiday. The first evening at the table dhte dinner, I sat next to a very agreeable gentleman with whom I speedily made friends. After about half an hours talk he asked my name. I told him who I was. Dear me, he said, if you are the son of Mr. Mitford of Exbury and Lady Georgina Ashburnham, you are descended from perhaps the two oldest Saxon families in England. Sir, you are a very remarkable person. I felt as Whistler, in his quaint way, told me that he did when Carlyle used the same words to him, That that was about what was the matter with me! and when I asked who was my genealogical acquaintance, he turned out to be no less an authority than Sir Bernard Burke. But in matter of genealogy, as in all others, there are iconoclasts, and now come people of much learning, who declare that the Saxon Mitfords are really Norman Bertrams, and that the famous Ashburnhams, of stupendous antiquity, are the descendants of a Norman family who were Counts of Euin Domesday Book variously called Estriels, Escriol, Criol, Crieul, or Anglicized as Kiriell, and even Cruel. That after all these centuries, and after such countless marriages as must have taken place in them, so curious an animal as a man of pure Saxon blood, or, indeed, of any pure blood, should still be in existence is, of course, an impossibility. It may be rank nonsense to talk of the Mitfords and the Ashburnhams as two of the oldest Saxon families in England, when there can be no such families, but there can be no doubt that they are both of very great antiquity. Of the Ashburnhams old Fuller says, My poor and plaine pen is willing though unable to add any lustre to this family of stupendous antiquitie. According to Francis Thynne, a herald of Queen Elizabeths time, Bertram Ashburnham, a Baron of Kent, was Constable of Dover Castle in 1066; which Bertram was beheaded by William the Conqueror because he did so valiantly defend the same against the Duke of Normandy. This is quoted by the Duchess of Cleveland in her Battle Abbey Roll, and she then labours with all her might to demolish the whole story. Gwillims Heraldry, however, takes the other view, and makes out that the second holder of the office of Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports was this same Bertram Ashburnham, and that it was he who, on behalf of the King, raised the troops to resist the invasion, Harold himself being away engaged in quelling a rebellion in the North. Since which time until now, by the grace of God, there hath not been wanting an Ashburnham of Ashburnham in Sussex.</p>...9781613102619_Library of Alexandrialibro_electonico_463279d6-7419-4c90-9e5d-81deda5993d8_9781613102619;9781613102619_9781613102619D.C.L. .2025-07-08T00:00:00+00:00https://getbook.kobo.com/koboid-prod-public/markmoxford-epub-a3e85c15-25bc-447e-8530-538f263aa67d.epub2025-07-08T00:00:00+00:00