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In an Irish tale Oengus, the son of the Dagda, falls in love, through a dream, with Caer ib Ormaith, who is one year in the form of a swan and the next in human shape. Mr. Morris turns the doves into swans. Cf. a South-Slavonic tale from Varazdina, Krauss, vol. i. p. 409. Brett, "Legends and Myths," p. 29. This legend is told with further details by Im Thurn, p. 381.
Besides Nuada, these were De Danaan chieftains: Dagda, the Mighty; Lug, son of Cian, son of Diancect, surnamed Lamfada, the Long Armed; Ogma, of the Sunlike Face; and Angus, the Young. They summoned the workers in bronze and the armorers, and bid them prepare sword and spear for battle, charging the makers of spear-haft and shield to perfect their work.
"I did not call to you, indeed," said the Thin Woman; "but why do you sit in the path so that travellers to the House of the Dagda are halted on their journey?" "There are no paths closed to us," he replied; "even the gods seek us, for they grow weary in their splendid desolation saving Him who liveth in all things and in us; Him we serve and before His awful front we abase ourselves.
Concobar, therefore, marched toward the Headland of the Kings, across the Boyne to the southward, and facing the northern bank where are the pyramids of the Dagda Mor and the De Danaans. But the southern armies were there already, so Concobar halted before the river. Then were their positions fixed and their pavilions pitched, their huts and their tents were made.
Therefore Iriel went forward: standing on the pyramid of the Dagda, he began measuring and reconnoitering the army. His spirit, or his mind, or his thoughts did not fret over them at all. He brought their description with him to the place in which Concobar was. "How, my life, Iriel?" said Concobar.
"If," she replied, "you are the Absolute and are above all pettiness, can you not be superior to me also and let me pass quietly on my road to the Dagda!" "We are what all humanity desire," quoth he, "and we desire all humanity. There is nothing, small or great, disdained by our immortal appetites.
The association of particular monuments with the Dagda and other divinities and heroes of Irish mythology implies that the actual persons for whom they were erected had been forgotten, the pagan traditions being probably broken by the introduction of Christianity.
Cormac in his Glossary tells us she was a daughter of the Dagda and a goddess whom all poets adored, and whose sisters were Brigit the physician and Brigit the smith. Probably the three sisters represent the same divine, or semi-divine, person whom we may identify with the British goddess Brigantia and the Gaulish Brigindo.” By E. Andrews, p. 18.
Coffey also quotes O'Hartagain's poem, which seems to bear in Mr. MacRitchie's favour: "Behold the sidhe before your eyes: It is manifest to you that it is a king's mansion, Which was built by the firm Dagda; It was a wonder, a court, a wonderful hill." Trans. Roy. But certain of the expressions in this are evidently to be taken figuratively, since Mr.
"Woman," said he, "for what purpose do you go abroad on this night and on this hill?" "I travel, sir," said the Thin Woman, "searching for the Brugh of Angus the son of the Dagda Mor." "We are all children of the Great Father," said he. "Do you know who we are?" "I do not know that," said she.
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