Dagda, the Good God, was the father god of the Celts and the king of the fairy race of Tautha de Danaan who moved to Ireland. When they came across the waters, they brought with them many magical gifts. Among them were a cauldron called Undry which provided food unlimited and had the power to restore life. Another was a harp which could cause seasons to change and play three types of music. The magic harp was made of oak and was decorated with precious jewels. Dagda carried it with him everywhere, even to battle. Those were the days of war and the golden-haired, blue-eyed Tautha de Danaan were battling the Formorians who had long, dark-hair and darker eyes.
As his men readied themselves for war, Dagda would set up his harp and run his finger gently across the strings and magically, a war song would begin to play. To that, the men would buckle their armours and go marching out to face the enemy, spears in hand shouting: “Forth the fight”.
At the end of the battle when the wounded and weary warriors returned, Dagda would, with a sweep of his hand, cause the harp to play again. This time it was a soothing music; the men no longer felt the pain of their wounds and their thoughts would be only of the honours they had won and the safety of their kin.
At one battle, Dagda realised that the Formorians had stolen his harp and fled to the country along with their women and children. Angered, he set out with his son Aengus Og to reclaim it. Before long, they came upon the enemy who had taken shelter in an abandoned castle. As they approached, they could hear loud laughter and merry making as the group wined and dined in the great hall. As he entered the great hall, Dagda could see his harp hanging on the wall in the dim lights of the candles. Very softly he began to chant:
“Come Daurdabla, apple-sweet murmurer
Come, Coir-cethair-chuir, four-angled frame of harmony,
Come summer, come winter,
Out of the mouths of harps and bags and pipes!’’
Instantly, the harp moved across the hall to his waiting arms, knocking down dead nine people on its way! The Formorians were shocked into silence. As he brushed his fingers across the strings, the harp began to play by itself. First came the goltrai, Music of Tears and mournful strains filled the room. Women, children and even the men began to weep and lament their defeat. Next the harp began playing the geantrai, Music of Merriment and the crowd roared with laughter. As they laughed, the soldiers dropped their spears and broke their wine goblets which fell from their hands. Slowly the harp changed its tune. It was time for the Music of Slumber, the suantrai. The notes fell soft as snow and gentle as a summer breeze. Children slowly clambered onto their mothers’ laps and feel asleep in that comforting warmth. The women could hardly keep their eyes open and were soon nodding off to sleep themselves. Before long, the men folk, old and young were drooping over their seats as sleep overcame them. As the Formorians slept, Dagda and his son quietly left as they had come, having retrieved the magic harp.