Celtic Irish Songs and Song-writers: A SelectionCharles MacCarthy Collins James Cornish & Sons, 1885 - 334 sider |
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Side vi
... Our Island 158 To Henry Grattan • 160 The Green little Shamrock of Ireland · 161 Cushla Ma Chree 162 The Irishman · 163 Song of an Exile · 164 John O'Dwyer of the Glen 165 L CONTENTS . vii PAGE PATRIOTIC SONGS - continued : On vi CONTENTS .
... Our Island 158 To Henry Grattan • 160 The Green little Shamrock of Ireland · 161 Cushla Ma Chree 162 The Irishman · 163 Song of an Exile · 164 John O'Dwyer of the Glen 165 L CONTENTS . vii PAGE PATRIOTIC SONGS - continued : On vi CONTENTS .
Side 31
... John O'Dugan , chief bard of The O'Kelly in Connaught , who wrote a topograpical poem , and died about 1370 ) ; but of himself and his other writings nothing is known except that they were and are not . He appears to have lived near ...
... John O'Dugan , chief bard of The O'Kelly in Connaught , who wrote a topograpical poem , and died about 1370 ) ; but of himself and his other writings nothing is known except that they were and are not . He appears to have lived near ...
Side 33
... JOHN O'NAGHTEN , or O'Neachtan , holds , according to Hardiman in his ' Irish Minstrelsy , ' ' the same rank in Irish literature that Young , the author of " Night Thoughts , " occupies in English . With equal genius and learning the ...
... JOHN O'NAGHTEN , or O'Neachtan , holds , according to Hardiman in his ' Irish Minstrelsy , ' ' the same rank in Irish literature that Young , the author of " Night Thoughts , " occupies in English . With equal genius and learning the ...
Side 38
... John Caldwell , of Castle Caldwell , in Fermanagh . His harp is now in the pos- session of The O'Conor Don - another , said also to have been his , is in the Royal Irish Academy — and the large chair , in which he was wont to sit at ...
... John Caldwell , of Castle Caldwell , in Fermanagh . His harp is now in the pos- session of The O'Conor Don - another , said also to have been his , is in the Royal Irish Academy — and the large chair , in which he was wont to sit at ...
Side 43
... John MacDonnell , called Claragh , as a poet to be the equal of Pope - a verdict as unjust and derogatory to MacDonnell as it well could be . Pope was at best a cold - blooded philosopher , moralist , and satirist in verse ; MacDonnell ...
... John MacDonnell , called Claragh , as a poet to be the equal of Pope - a verdict as unjust and derogatory to MacDonnell as it well could be . Pope was at best a cold - blooded philosopher , moralist , and satirist in verse ; MacDonnell ...
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Adieu amongst beauty blessing born bosom breast bright brow CAROLAN charms chree Cork county Cork Curran Dark Rosaleen dear death Dermody died drink Dublin Duhallow eloquence Erin's eyes fair Hills fame Farewell father flowers Garnavilla genius GERALD GRIFFIN girl grave green grief hand harp hath heart Hills of Eire honour hope Innisfail Ireland IRISH BARDS Irish literature Irish Volunteers Irishman J. C. MANGAN JOHN JOHN BANIM Lady LAMENT land literary lived lonely Lord Lysaght maid MANGAN Mary MATTHEW CONCANEN melodious mourn native ne'er never o'er Old Erin patriot poems poet poetic poetry praise Prince proud RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN RICHARD DALTON WILLIAMS round shamrock Sheridan sigh sing smile Soggarth Aroon song-writer songs sorrow soul spirit sung sweet tears tender thee There's thine THOMAS DERMODY THOMAS MOORE thou Translated Twas weeping wild writings wrote young youth
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Side 324 - I will own the colour true, When yielding blushes aid their hue. Is her hand so soft and pure ? I must press it, to be sure ; Nor can I be certain then, Till it grateful press again. Must I with attentive eye Watch her heaving bosom sigh ? I will do so — when I see That heaving...
Side 305 - Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still. It is not while beauty and youth are...
Side 210 - There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. Yet it was not that nature had shed o'er the scene Her purest of crystal and brightest of green; 'twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill, Oh!
Side 306 - LESBIA hath a beaming eye, But no one knows for whom it beameth ; Right and left its arrows fly, But what they aim at no one dreameth. Sweeter 'tis to gaze upon My Nora's lid that seldom rises ; Few its looks, but every one, Like unexpected light, surprises...
Side 213 - The minstrel fell! — but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under; The harp he loved ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder; And said, "No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, They shall never sound in slavery!
Side 201 - On this I ponder Where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, Sweet Cork, of thee, With thy bells of Shandon That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Side 172 - The Erne shall run red With redundance of blood, The earth shall rock beneath our tread, And flames wrap hill and wood, And gun-peal, and slogan cry Wake many a glen serene, Ere you shall fade, ere you shall die, My dark Rosaleen!
Side 90 - Betrayed in friendship, befooled in love, With spirit shipwrecked, and young hopes blasted, He still, still strove. Till spent with toil, dreeing death for others, And some whose hands should have wrought for him (If children live not for sires and mothers), His mind grew dim. And he fell far through that pit abysmal, The gulf and grave of Maginn and Burns, And pawned his soul for the devil's dismal Stock of returns.
Side 282 - Tis but a step down yonder lane, And the little church stands near — The church where we were wed, Mary, I see the spire from here. But the graveyard lies between, Mary, And my step might break your rest — For I've laid you, darling, down to sleep, With your baby on your breast.
Side 308 - How sweet the answer Echo makes To Music at night When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away o'er lawns and lakes Goes answering light ! Yet Love hath echoes truer far And far more sweet Than e'er, beneath the moonlight's star, Of horn or lute or soft guitar The songs repeat. 'Tis when the sigh, — in youth sincere And only then, The sigh that's breathed for one to hear — Is by that one, that only Dear Breathed back again.