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Barney beautiful bless boys brave bright called CHORUS cold cried dance darling daughter dead dear death dream Erin eyes face fair faith father fear feel fell fight fire friends gave girl give gold gone green grow hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hills hope I'll Ireland Irish isle Kilkenny kiss land leave light live look maid Mary meet mind Molly morning mother mountain ne'er never night o'er old Ireland once ould Paddy poor pride rest rose round seen shamrock shore sigh sing smile song soon soul stand sure sweet tears tell thee There's thou thought took town true turned twas voice wander wave wear whisky wild wish young
Стр. 24 - 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.
Стр. 24 - I've heard bells tolling Old Adrian's Mole in, Their thunder rolling From the Vatican, And cymbals glorious Swinging uproarious In the gorgeous turrets Of Notre Dame ; 3.24 But thy sounds were sweeter Than the dome of Peter Flings o'er the Tiber, Pealing solemnly.
Стр. 10 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
Стр. 24 - But thy sounds were sweeter Than the dome of Peter ! Flings o'er the Tiber Pealing solemnly. Oh ! the bells of Shandon Sound far more grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Стр. 123 - GENUS a better discerning. Let them brag of their heathenish gods, Their Lethes, their Styxes, and Stygians, Their Quis, and their Quaes, and their Quods, They're all but a parcel of Pigeons.
Стр. 111 - Lady ! dost thou not fear to stray, " So lone and lovely through this bleak way ? " Are Erin's sons so good or so cold, " As not to be tempted by woman or gold...
Стр. 34 - you have your wish, there are your Saxon foes! " The marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he goes! How fierce the look these exiles wear, who're wont to be so gay, The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts to-day — The treaty broken, ere the ink wherewith...
Стр. 34 - ... was weeping, For her husband was far on the wild raging sea, And the tempest was swelling, round the fisherman's dwelling, And she cried, " Dermot, darling, oh ! come back to me.
Стр. 49 - The dust of some is Irish earth, Among their own they rest, And the same land that gave them birth Has caught them to her breast; And we will pray that from their clay Full many a race may start Of true men, like you, men, To act as brave a part.
Стр. 54 - 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 ! no— it was something more exquisite still.