Romantic Ireland, Zväzok 2

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Strana 258 - 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 ! n.
Strana 124 - THE DESERTED VILLAGE. SWEET AUBURN ! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain, "Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's lingering blooms delay'd : Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease...
Strana 67 - ... in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings ; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore ; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core.
Strana 67 - And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings.
Strana 124 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, While many a pastime circled in the shade, The...
Strana 37 - Still — still in those wilds might young liberty rally, And send her strong shout over mountain and valley; The star of the west might yet rise in its glory, And the land that was darkest be brightest in story.
Strana 88 - THEY came from a land beyond the sea, And now o'er the western main Set sail, in their good ships, gallantly, From the sunny land of Spain. " Oh, where's the Isle we've seen in dreams, " Our destined home or grave P" Thus sung they as, by the morning's beams, They swept the Atlantic wave.
Strana 12 - 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.
Strana 38 - I too shall be gone ; — but my name shall be spoken When Erin awakes and her fetters are broken. Some minstrel will come, in the summer eve's gleaming, When Freedom's young light on his spirit is beaming...
Strana 28 - There is a stone there, that whoever kisses, Oh! he never misses to grow eloquent. 'Tis he may clamber to a lady's chamber, Or become a member of parliament: A clever spouter he'll sure turn out, or An out-and-outer, "to be let alone," Don't hope to hinder him, or to bewilder him; Sure he's a pilgrim from the Blarney stone!

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