Celtic Irish Songs and Song-writers: A Selection. With an Introduction and MemoirsCharles MacCarthy Collins J. Cornish & sons, 1885 - 334 strán (strany) |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 22.
Strana 7
... gave grace and comeliness unto them . ' But , notwithstanding , he found that they ' seldom choose the sayings and doings of good men for the argument of their poems ; but whomsoever they found lawless in life , most dangerous and ...
... gave grace and comeliness unto them . ' But , notwithstanding , he found that they ' seldom choose the sayings and doings of good men for the argument of their poems ; but whomsoever they found lawless in life , most dangerous and ...
Strana 24
... gave birth to them . These names may be surrendered with reluctance , but Ireland has no claim on them . Goldsmith , Davis , Lover , Lever , and numerous others , are not Celtic - Irish , but Anglo - Irish ; and they and their songs ...
... gave birth to them . These names may be surrendered with reluctance , but Ireland has no claim on them . Goldsmith , Davis , Lover , Lever , and numerous others , are not Celtic - Irish , but Anglo - Irish ; and they and their songs ...
Strana 37
... gave his whole heart and soul to his minstrelsy . He did not die , how- ever , and though Bridget Cruise was always a fond memory with him , he found solace for the bitterness of his disappointment in dying poetically for others . For ...
... gave his whole heart and soul to his minstrelsy . He did not die , how- ever , and though Bridget Cruise was always a fond memory with him , he found solace for the bitterness of his disappointment in dying poetically for others . For ...
Strana 45
... gave them birth . ' But their spirit is cold , and they have not in their veins the blood of their fathers , who were men . ' And so MacDonnell Claragh , with the language and fervour of a poet , and the soul of a warrior , would fain ...
... gave them birth . ' But their spirit is cold , and they have not in their veins the blood of their fathers , who were men . ' And so MacDonnell Claragh , with the language and fervour of a poet , and the soul of a warrior , would fain ...
Strana 48
... gave no indi- cation of the wit and humour of his burlesques . Indeed , he is generally spoken of as dull and tiresome in the manner and style of his talk . He was a remarkably tall man - ' cruel tall ' in the words of a contemporary ...
... gave no indi- cation of the wit and humour of his burlesques . Indeed , he is generally spoken of as dull and tiresome in the manner and style of his talk . He was a remarkably tall man - ' cruel tall ' in the words of a contemporary ...
Obsah
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Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Časté výrazy a frázy
Adieu Banba bards beauty blessing born bosom breast bright brow Caoch O'Leary CAROLAN charms chree cold Cork CURRAN Dark Rosaleen dear death Dermody died dream drink Dublin Duhallow ELIZABETH RYVES Erin's eyes fair Hills fame Farewell father flowers friends Garnavilla genius GERALD GRIFFIN girl glory grave green grief hand harp hath heart heaven Hills of Eire hope Innisfail Ireland Irish literature Irish Volunteers Irish wife Irishman J. C. MANGAN JOHN JOHN BANIM Lady LAMENT land lived lonely Lord lover Lysaght M'GEE maid Mary MATTHEW CONCANEN mourn native ne'er never night o'er Old Erin poems poet proud remember RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN RICHARD DALTON WILLIAMS rose round shamrock Sheridan shine sigh sing sleep smile soft Soggarth Aroon song-writer songs sorrow soul spirit sweet tears thee thine THOMAS DERMODY THOMAS MOORE thou Translated Twas vale weep wild wrote young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 265 - My life is like the autumn leaf That trembles in the moon's pale ray; Its hold is frail, — its date is brief, Restless, and soon to pass away ! Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, The parent tree will mourn its shade. The winds bewail the leafless tree, — But none shall breathe a sigh for me...
Strana 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...
Strana 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...
Strana 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!
Strana 202 - Swinging uproarious In the gorgeous turrets Of Notre Dame ; But thy sounds were sweeter Than the dome of Peter Flings o'er the Tiber, Pealing solemnly. O, the bells of Shandon Sound far more grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Strana 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...
Strana 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!
Strana 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.
Strana 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.
Strana 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.