Talis Qualis, Or, Tales of the Jury Room, Bind 1874

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J. Duffy and Company, 1857 - 463 sider
 

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Side 450 - Love My Love in the Morning I LOVE my love in the morning, For she like morn is fair — Her blushing cheek, its crimson streak, Its clouds, her golden hair. Her glance, its beam, so soft and kind; Her tears, its dewy showers; And her voice, the tender whispering wind That stirs the early bowers. I love my love in the morning, I love my love at noon, For she is bright, as the lord of light, Yet mild as autumn's moon: Her beauty is my bosom's sun, Her faith my fostering shade, And I will love my darling...
Side 377 - Know ye not that lovely river ! Know ye not that smiling river ? Whose gentle flood, By cliff and wood, With 'wildering sound goes winding ever. Oh ! often yet with feeling strong, On that dear stream my memory ponders, And still I prize its murmuring song, For by my childhood's home it wanders. Know ye not, &c.
Side 69 - Aileen aroon! When, like a diadem, Buds blush around the stem, Which is the fairest gem? Aileen aroon! Is it the laughing eye? Aileen aroon! Is it the timid sigh? Aileen aroon! Is it the tender tone, Soft as the stringed harp's moan?
Side 100 - The knights are dust, And their good swords are rust, Their souls are with the saints, we trust.
Side 450 - I love my love in the morning, I love my love at even ; Her smile's soft play is like the ray That lights the western heaven : I loved her when the sun was high, I loved her when he rose ; But, best of all, when evening's sigh Was murmuring at its close.
Side 69 - Aroon! What makes his dawning glow, Changeless through joy or woe? Only the constant know: — Eileen Aroon!
Side 378 - There's beauty in each flower that grows Around our native woodland wreathing. The memory of the brightest joys In childhood's happy morn that found us, Is dearer than the richest toys, The present vainly sheds around us. Know ye not, &c.
Side 303 - Fling thy rocky portals wide Western ocean, western ocean; Bend ye hills on either side, In solemn, deep devotion; While before the rising gales On his heaving surface sails, Half the wealth of Erin's vales With undulating motion. Hail! our own beloved stream, Flowing ever, flowing ever, Silent in the morning beam, Our own majestic river!
Side 94 - WHEN filled with thoughts of life's young day, Alone in distant climes we roam, And year on year has rolled away, Since last we viewed our own dear home ; Oh, then, at evening's silent hour, In chamber lone or moonlight bow'r, How sad on memory's listening ear Come long lost voices sounding near ; Like the wild chime of village bells ' Heard far away in mountain dells. But, oh ! for him let kind hearts...
Side 303 - Tis, it is the Shannon's stream Brightly glancing, brightly glancing, See, oh, see the ruddy beam Upon its waters dancing ! Thus returned from travel vain, Years of exile, years of pain, To see old Shannon's face again...

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