Nova Hibernia: Irish Poets and Dramatists of Today and Yesterday |
From inside the book
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Page 11
... literary marvels as if owing to a new de- scent of Fiery Tongues , -the one troubling of the pool in these latter years so barren of faith and wonder , the critics , so long hostile or merely contemptuous , have taken to con- sidering ...
... literary marvels as if owing to a new de- scent of Fiery Tongues , -the one troubling of the pool in these latter years so barren of faith and wonder , the critics , so long hostile or merely contemptuous , have taken to con- sidering ...
Page 13
... frenzy , instead of a literary attachment and a facility of making rhymes . Poetry may be mere moonshine , and in the case of Yeats , it is perhaps only the shadow of moon- shine : -still is it the miracle of the human 13 YEATS AND SYNGE.
... frenzy , instead of a literary attachment and a facility of making rhymes . Poetry may be mere moonshine , and in the case of Yeats , it is perhaps only the shadow of moon- shine : -still is it the miracle of the human 13 YEATS AND SYNGE.
Page 17
... literary tradition . There were rarer treasures at home , as we have since discovered , than he went questing for in Khorassan and Cashmere . Yeats is easily first in this old but unworked province . He has " staked out his claim , " as ...
... literary tradition . There were rarer treasures at home , as we have since discovered , than he went questing for in Khorassan and Cashmere . Yeats is easily first in this old but unworked province . He has " staked out his claim , " as ...
Page 22
... literary enterprise or historical pride than the Church and the Saints and the legendary kings in Ireland . In his poetical one - act drama , " The Green Helmet , " full of power and wizardry , Yeats exhibits that divine folly of the ...
... literary enterprise or historical pride than the Church and the Saints and the legendary kings in Ireland . In his poetical one - act drama , " The Green Helmet , " full of power and wizardry , Yeats exhibits that divine folly of the ...
Page 23
... literary movement which has caused priests and " patriots " so much anxiety . It is a spiritual treasure , immortal as anything that has come out of Ireland ! Of Synge , friend and co - worker of Yeats , one must speak less confidently ...
... literary movement which has caused priests and " patriots " so much anxiety . It is a spiritual treasure , immortal as anything that has come out of Ireland ! Of Synge , friend and co - worker of Yeats , one must speak less confidently ...
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Common terms and phrases
Anacreon beautiful better blood bright brilliant Brooke Byron Cáhál Mór century character classic Cork Costigan critics dark Rosaleen Davis dear death Dickens dream Dublin English Erin eyes fair Hills faith fame famous fancy Father Prout feeling Fontenoy Francis Sylvester Mahony Fraser's Fraser's Magazine genius Gerald Griffin gifted glory Gougaune hath heart Hills of Eire honour hope immortal Ireland Irish Melodies Irish patriotism Irish poet Irishman James Clarence Mangan Jeffrey Lalla Rookh land less light literary literature lived Lord Lord Byron Mangan Moore's Muse never Nora Creina NOVA HIBERNIA o'er passion perhaps poem poet's poetical poetry priest prose race river Lee School for Scandal Sheridan song soul spirit story Synge Thackeray thee things Thomas Moore thro tion touch true truth verse William Maginn Wine-red Hand worth wrote Yeats young
Popular passages
Page 165 - So come in the evening, or come in the morning, Come when you're looked for, or come without warning, Kisses and welcome you'll find here before you, And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you...
Page 50 - That ev'n in thy mirth it will steal from thee stilL Dear Harp of my Country! farewell to thy numbers, This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine ! Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine ; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone ; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak:d was thy own.
Page 80 - I'd touch her neck so warm and white. And I would be the girdle About her dainty dainty waist, And her heart would beat against me, In sorrow and in rest: And I should know if it beat right, I'd clasp it round so close and tight. And I would be the necklace...
Page 49 - Harp of my country ! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp ! I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song...
Page 139 - And tell how now, amid wreck and sorrow, And want, and sickness, and houseless nights, He bides in calmness the silent morrow That no ray lights. And lives he still then? Yes! Old and hoary At thirty-nine, from despair and woe, He lives, enduring what future story Will never know. Him grant a grave to, ye pitying noble, Deep in your bosoms! There let him dwell ! He, too, had tears for all souls in trouble, Here and in hell.
Page 84 - Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Page 71 - As a beam o'er the face of the waters may glow, While the tide runs in darkness and coldness below, So the cheek may be tinged with a warm sunny smile, Though the cold heart to ruin runs darkly the while.
Page 247 - With deep affection and recollection I often think of those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, in the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle their magic spells. 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.
Page 138 - 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.
Page 248 - WITH deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells. 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.