“The Celtic missionaries allowed the pagan stock to stand,
grafting their Christian cult thereon. Hence the blending of the pagan and the
Christian religions in these poems, which to many minds will constitute their
chief charm. Gaelic lore is full of this blending and grafting--nor are they
confined to the literature of the people, but extend indeed to their music,
sculpture, and architecture. At Rodail, Harris, is a cruciform church of the
thirteenth century. The church abuts upon a broad square tower of no great
height. The tower is called 'Tur Chliamain,' tower of Clement, 'Cliaman Mor
Rodail,' Great Clement of Rodail. Tradition says that the tower is older than
the church, and the masonry confirms the tradition.
There are sculptures within the church of much originality
of design and of great beauty of execution, but the sculptures without are
still more original and interesting. Round the sides of the square tower are
the figures of birds and beasts, reptiles and fishes, and of men and women
representing phallic worship. Here pagan cult joins with Christian faith, the
East with the West, the past with the present. The traveller from India to
Scotland can here see, on the cold, sterile rocks of Harris, the petrified
symbols of a faith left living behind him on the hot, fertile plains of
Hindustan. He can thus in his own person bridge over a space of eight thousand
miles and a period of two thousand years.”
Alexander
Carmichael
AN CATH
NACH TAINIG
IOSA Mhic Mhoire eighim air th’ ainm,
Is air ainm Eoin ostail ghradhaich, Is air ainm gach naoimh ’s an domhan dearg, Mo thearmad ’s a chath nach tainig, Mo thearmad ’s a chath nach tainig.
Duair theid am beul a dhunadh,
Duair theid an t-suil a dhruideadh, Duair sguireas an anail da struladh, Duair sguireas an cridhe da bhuille, Sguireas an cridhe de bhuille.
Duair theid am Breitheamh dh’ an chathair,
Is a theid an tagradh a shuidheach, Iosa Mhic Mhoire cobhair air m’ anam, A Mhicheil mhin gobh ri mo shiubhal. Iosa Mhic Mhoire cobhair air m’ anam! A Mhicheil mhin gobh ri mo shiubhal! |
THE BATTLE
TO COME
JESUS, Thou Son of Mary, I call on Thy name,
And on the name of John the apostle beloved, And on the names of all the saints in the red domain, To shield me in the battle to come, To shield me in the battle to come.
When the mouth shall be closed,
When the eye shall be shut, When the breath shall cease to rattle, When the heart shall cease to throb, When the heart shall cease to throb.
When the Judge shall take the throne,
And when the cause is fully pleaded, O Jesu, Son of Mary, shield Thou my soul, O Michael fair, acknowledge my departure. O Jesu, Son of Mary, shield Thou my soul! O Michael fair, receive my departure! |
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