The book of Irish ballads, ed. by D.F. M'Carthy1846 |
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Arranmore Avondhu ballads Barretts battle Bawn beauty beneath blood blue bosom brave breast breeze bride bright brow Céim-an-eich cheek chief clouds Dark Rosaleen dead dear death deep dream Erin's fair fairy flowers GERALD GRIFFIN glen Glen Etive glory gold golden GOUGANE BARRA grace Grace O'Malley green grief hand hath heard heart Heaven hill Ireland Irish Mary Island isle JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN JOHN BANIM Kincora King land light lone Lynott Mac William maiden Malloc moon morning mortal mountain ne'er never night Norah o'er pale Phooka poem red deer rock rose round SAMUEL FERGUSON Saxon shining shore sigh Sir Theobald Burke sleep smile soft song sorrow soul spirit spring steed stood stream sweet thee thou thro tower Twas Vale of Shanganah valley voice wail wander waters wave weary weep Welshmen of Tirawley wild wind young youth
Populære passager
Side 211 - I could kneel all night in prayer To heal your many ills ! And one . . . beamy smile from you Would float like light between My toils and me, my own, my true, My Dark Rosaleen ! My fond Rosaleen ! Would give me life and soul anew, A second life, a soul anew, My Dark Rosaleen...
Side 210 - All day long in unrest, To and fro do I move, The very soul within my breast Is wasted for you, love! The heart in my bosom faints To think of you, my Queen, My life of life, my saint of saints. My dark Rosaleenl My own Rosaleen! To hear your sweet and sad complaints, My life, my love, my saint of saints, My dark Rosaleen!
Side 211 - Over dews, over sands, Will I fly, for your weal: Your holy delicate white hands Shall girdle me with steel. At home, in your emerald bowers, From morning's dawn till e'en, You'll pray for me, my flower of flowers, My Dark Rosaleen!
Side 209 - O, MY Dark Rosaleen, Do not sigh, do not weep ! The priests are on the ocean green, They march along the deep. There's wine from the royal Pope, Upon the ocean green ; And Spanish ale shall give you hope, My Dark Rosaleen...
Side 112 - I walked entranced Through a land of Morn : The sun, with wondrous excess of light, Shone down and glanced Over seas of corn And lustrous gardens aleft and right. Even in the clime Of resplendent Spain, Beams no such sun upon such a land ; But it was the time, 'Twas in the reign, Of Cahal Mor of the Wine-red Hand. Anon stood nigh By my side a man Of princely aspect and port sublime Him queried I — " O, my Lord and Khan, What clime is this, and what golden time...
Side 31 - Till up the welkin rose the day, Then deem'd the dole was o'er ; But wot ye well his harder lot ? His seely back the bunch had got Which Edwin lost afore. This tale a Sybil-nurse ared; She softly stroak'd my youngling head, And when the tale was done, " Thus some are born, my son," she crie% " With base impediments to rise, And some are born with none.
Side 209 - I sailed with sails On river and on lake. The Erne, at its highest flood, I dashed across unseen, For there was lightning in my blood, My dark Rosaleen!
Side 114 - It was by the stream Of the castled Maine, One Autumn eve, in the Teuton's land, That I dreamed this dream Of the time and reign Of Cahal Mor of the Wine-red Hand ! JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN YOUR FEAR.
Side 28 - He spoke, and all a sudden there Light musick floats in wanton air ; The monarch leads the queen ; The rest their faerie partners found, And Mable trimly tript the ground With Edwin of the green. The dauncing past, the board was laid, And siker such a feast was made As heart and lip desire ; Withouten hands the dishes fly, The glasses with a wish Come nigh, And with a wish retire. But now to please the...
Side 19 - It was then your Mary ; she's frae Castle-cary, It was then your true love I met by the tree ; Proud as her heart is and modest her nature, Sweet were the kisses that she gave to me.