According to MacManus, the Irish sprung from three peoples, the Firbolgs, the Tuatha De Danann and the Milesians, all apparently waves of Arуan invaders to Ireland. The ancient whorl of peoples is ultimately unfathomable. However, from the bardic sources, what emerges is a very Aeneid-like migration epic, not a simple invasion, not when a queen is killed on the beaches amongst the invaders and every type of tradesmen is present among the crews of the invading ships.
Below are some snatches of poetics touching on the ancient migrations behind so many of our nations and races. The Song of Amergin is not included, as no reliable translation has been found, with the two extant examples clearly loose adaptations, purposefully omitting the final passage for lack of context. Noted by Seumas MacManus, one name for Ireland is Inisfail, meaning Isle of Destiny, found in the poem below. One passage attributed to the poet, Amergin, that bears on the ultimate origins of the Milesians, states “that they may hold their fairs and equestrian sports upon her territories.” Another ancient poet describes the Milesians arriving “seven score chariots and seven score horsemen was their number.”
—Tain Bo Cuailgne
Now we have the following excerpt from Moore:
“They came from a land beyond the sea,
And now o’er the western main
Set sail in their good ships, gallantly,
From the sunny lands of Spain.
“Oh, where’s the isle we’ve seen in dreams,
Our destin’d home or grave?”
Thus sang they, as by the morning beams,
They swept the Atlantic wave.”
In case the two passages above seem incongruent, keep in mind that ancient chariots were usually light and collapsible, stored in a small area [Editor: please find Minoan lineal A or lineal B illustration.]
The Celts by D’Arcy McGee:
“Long, long ago beyond the misty space
Of twice a thousand years,
In Erin old there dwelt a mighty race,
Taller than Roman spears;
Like oaks and towers they had a giant grace,
Were fleet as deers
With winds and waves they made their ‘biding place,
These western shepherd seers.
“Their ocean-god was Mannanan MacLir,
Whose angry lips,
In their white foam, full often would inter
Whole fleets of ships;
Crom was their day-god, and their thunderer,
Made morning and eclipse;
Bride was their queen of song, and unto her
They prayed with fire-touched lips.
“Great were their deeds, their passions, and their sports;
With clay and stone
They piled on strath and shore those mystic forts,
Not yet o’erthrown;
On cairn-crowned hills they held their council-courts;
While youths alone,
With giant dogs, explored the elks’ resorts,
And brought them down.”
All quotes from The Story of the Irish Race by Seumas MacManus, 1921, 724 pgs.
link celt.ucc.ie//indexLG.html
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The euhemerization of the old ways to appease the new order should be a point of cultural mourning. Not that it did those monks any good as their inheritors, the modern scholar, now laugh at how simple they must have been to believe such things. Bending the knee to new masters condemns you to the mockery of your children when yet newer masters come and they follow your example.
The New Order is intent on hijacking and transmogrifying everything of cultural value.
Also for what it's worth Crom Cruach is post conversion slander.
Please email me an explanation, for a footnote.