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appear asked attention beauty believe Bompas called Celtic CHAPTER character charming Chatworth consider conversation course cried Crozier daughter dear dine dinner Dominick dreamed Emily England English exclaimed eyes fact fair Falcon fancy feel Flecknoe Freeman gipsy girl give Goslyn green hair hand head hear heard heart hero hope hour idea interest Irish John lady land leave letter light live London looking Lord Mac Morris meeting mind Miss Miss Falcon Monk Moore mother nature never night observed party passed perhaps political poor positively present principle question received recollect replied returned round Saxon seemed Sharpe shirt side song spirit talk tell thing thought Tierna Tigernach tion turn Verdaunt Vincent voice wild Young Ireland
Strana 227 - Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
Strana 177 - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And,— when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Strana 82 - em. SONG. Who is Silvia ? what is she, That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she ; The heavens such grace did lend her, That she might admired be.
Strana 136 - Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment? Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence.
Strana 288 - A maiden never bold ; Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion Blush'd at herself...
Strana 278 - Hail, old patrician trees, so great and good! Hail, ye plebeian under-wood ! Where the poetic birds rejoice, And for their quiet nests and plenteous food Pay, with their grateful voice. Hail, the poor Muses...
Strana 50 - My boyish ear still clung to hear Of Erin's pride of yore, Ere Norman foot had dared pollute Her independent shore : Of chiefs, long dead, who rose to head Some gallant patriot few, Till all my aim on earth became, To strike one blow for you, Dear Land To strike one blow for you.
Strana 154 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid, on a dolphin's back, Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath. That the rude sea grew civil at her song ; And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Strana 106 - Oh, blessed vision ! happy child ! Thou art so exquisitely wild : I think of thee with many fears Of what may be thy lot in future years. I thought of times when Pain might be thy guest, Lord of thy house and hospitality. And Grief, uneasy lover ! never rest But when she sat within the touch of thee.
Strana 248 - ... hand, which involves no fulfilment or breach of any law human or divine. And in such a case it is a matter of wisdom and duty, and, practically speaking, of absolute necessity, to take into account the state of thought and feeling in which the great body of the Church has been brought up and exists. If any man is fully satisfied that there is a divine command, or a human law, by which he is bound to build a monastery and carry on monasticism, let him pursue his convictions, without troubling...