Nova Hibernia: Irish Poets and Dramatists of Today and Yesterday |
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Page 40
... thee , But while fame elates thee , Oh , still remember me ! Ah , she listened now with a flying heart to words that made poignantly real for her the sentence of separation . Then the matchless voice , thrilling with power and sweetness ...
... thee , But while fame elates thee , Oh , still remember me ! Ah , she listened now with a flying heart to words that made poignantly real for her the sentence of separation . Then the matchless voice , thrilling with power and sweetness ...
Page 49
... thee , The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long , When proudly , my own Island Harp , I unbound THOMAS MOORE 49.
... thee , The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long , When proudly , my own Island Harp , I unbound THOMAS MOORE 49.
Page 50
... thee , And gave all thy chords to light , freedom , and song ! The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness Have waken'd thy fondest , thy liveliest thrill ; But so oft hast thou echo'd the deep sigh of sadness , That ev'n in thy ...
... thee , And gave all thy chords to light , freedom , and song ! The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness Have waken'd thy fondest , thy liveliest thrill ; But so oft hast thou echo'd the deep sigh of sadness , That ev'n in thy ...
Page 69
... thee more dear to me . Thy rival was honor'd while thou wert wrong'd and scorn'd , Thy crown was of briers , while ... thee ! They slander thee sorely who say thy vows are frail— THOMAS MOORE 69.
... thee more dear to me . Thy rival was honor'd while thou wert wrong'd and scorn'd , Thy crown was of briers , while ... thee ! They slander thee sorely who say thy vows are frail— THOMAS MOORE 69.
Page 70
Irish Poets and Dramatists of Today and Yesterday Michael Monahan. They slander thee sorely who say thy vows are frail— Hadst thou been a false one thy cheek had been less pale . They say , too , so long thou hast worn those lingering ...
Irish Poets and Dramatists of Today and Yesterday Michael Monahan. They slander thee sorely who say thy vows are frail— Hadst thou been a false one thy cheek had been less pale . They say , too , so long thou hast worn those lingering ...
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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.