Talis Qualis, Or, Tales of the Jury Room, Bind 2Maxwell and Company, 1842 |
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Ahearn amongst answer Aoife Argeus asked astonishment behold birds Bogh Dearg brethren brother called Castle children of Lir Cluas continued countenance cried dhread door Druids exclaimed eyes Father John Fingula FIRINE Fitzgerald gazed gentlemen Geoffry Gunn give half hand hanged harp head hear heard honour horse incubus Ireland Irish Juror Juryman Kenmare Knoc Fierna lady length Limerick Lir's listening look Macaomh Magrath master masther Mc Eneiry mind Miss Moriarty monarch morning Moyle Nash never night O'Connor of Connaught o'er O'Neil observed Old Kent Road parish person plaze poor Pounder remained replied Richard round towers sea of Moyle Seaghan Serapis shore side silence singin stood story stranger sure swans tailor tale tell there's thing thou thought Tibbot O'Leary Tom Nash took Tuatha Danaans turn waters Wine words
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Side 219 - ... the affair ended as it did. However this might be, Tibbot did not seem to allow the event to weigh very heavily upon his spirits, and it was' with much equanimity that he subsequently even heard of her marriage to another. His beloved studies supplied to him the place of all other domestic happiness, and but for one of those accidents which so much more frequently determine the fortunes of men, than any efforts of prudence or foresight, he might have continued his solitary pursuits until he had...
Side 79 - Moyle ! be the roar of thy water, Break not, ye breezes, your chain of repose, While murmuring mournfully, Lir's lonely daughter Tells to the night-star her tale of woes.
Side 99 - When will heaven, its sweet bell ringing, Call my spirit from this stormy world? Sadly, oh Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping, Fate bids me languish long ages away; Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping, Still doth the pure light its dawning delay. When will that day-star, mildly springing, Warm our isle with peace and love ? When will heaven, its sweet bell ringing, Call my spirit to the fields above?
Side 241 - O'Leary, awoke by the jingling of keys and half-pence, turned his head and asked, — " Well, Nash, are we likely to have rain ? " " I never seen such a mornin', sir. The sky is all one cloud from e'st to west, an' so low that I could a'most tetch it with my hand. I don't know from Adam what we 'll do about the piaties ; the men won't be able to give half a day with the weather, a clane loss of half a guinea at the laste.
Side 197 - What news?" Insomuch that hereof is told a pretty jest of a Frenchman, who, having been sometimes in Ireland, where he marked their great...
Side 240 - tis to-morrow we have men hired to have the piaties dug in the next field." "Hang the potatoes!" exclaimed Mr. O'Leary. " Hang the piaties ! Millia murdher ! I never heard so foolish a speech as that from him before. Hang the piaties! The whole stock we have again
Side 116 - Moyle, to thy winter-wave weeping, Fate bids me languish long ages away ; Yet still in her darkness doth Erin lie sleeping, Still doth the pure light its dawning delay. When will that day-star, mildly springing, Warm our isle with peace and love ? When will heaven, its sweet bell ringing, Call my spirit to the fields above ? COME, SEND ROUND THE WINE.
Side 215 - " Well ? " said Tibbot, looking over his shoulder. " I have some news, plase your honor." The brow of Mr. O'Leary relaxed. " Well," said he, "what is it ? " " I was comin' through a part o' the County Tipperary the other day, and passing near the foot o' the Galteigh mountains, what should I see only a power o' people with horses and tacklin' an
Side 213 - How long is it since you left it ? " " Six years." " And YOU are now going back ? " " I am." " I suppose you had a great many strange adventures during your absence from home ? " " Och, then, not belyin' your honor, sorrow a 'venther, 'cept that it was a venthersom thing o' me ever to think of lavin
Side 201 - Cleopatra herself were to arise from the grave, unless her great antiquity might awaken some interest for her, she would find her charms and talents as entirely wasted on the insipid mind of Mr. Tibbot O'Leary, as they were in her natural lifetime on that very ill-bred gentleman whom they call Octavius Caesar. Although habits of retirement and absence of mind had made him very unobservant of the manners of his own time, and he was apt to make awkward mistakes occasionally, both at his own table and...