Songs of Ireland and Other Lands: Being a Collection of the Most Popular Irish, Sentimental and Comic SongsD. & J. Sadlier & Company, 1847 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 100.
Strana 6
... green bushes .. The green linnet .... The green little shamrock of Ireland .. The Irish jaunting car .. The light of other days .. The low - backed car .. The maids of merry Ireland The memory of the dead . 264 289 .. 189 167 19 245 162 ...
... green bushes .. The green linnet .... The green little shamrock of Ireland .. The Irish jaunting car .. The light of other days .. The low - backed car .. The maids of merry Ireland The memory of the dead . 264 289 .. 189 167 19 245 162 ...
Strana 11
... Green and Tipperary , boys . Now mind what John Bull did here , my boys , In the days of our famine and fear , my boys : He burned and sacked , he plundered and racked , Ould Ireland of Irish to clear , my boys . Now Bull wants to ...
... Green and Tipperary , boys . Now mind what John Bull did here , my boys , In the days of our famine and fear , my boys : He burned and sacked , he plundered and racked , Ould Ireland of Irish to clear , my boys . Now Bull wants to ...
Strana 13
... Green and Tipperary , boys . CAOCH THE PIPER . J. KEEGAN.t ONE winter's day , long , long ago , When I was a little fellow , A piper wandered to our door , Grey - headed , blind , and yellow- And , oh ! how glad was my young heart ...
... Green and Tipperary , boys . CAOCH THE PIPER . J. KEEGAN.t ONE winter's day , long , long ago , When I was a little fellow , A piper wandered to our door , Grey - headed , blind , and yellow- And , oh ! how glad was my young heart ...
Strana 19
... GREEN LITTLE SHAMROCK OF IRELAND . ANDREW CHERRY . * THERE'S a dear little plant that grows in our isle , " Twas Saint Patrick himself , sure , that set it ; And the sun of his labor with pleasure did smile , And with dew from his eye ...
... GREEN LITTLE SHAMROCK OF IRELAND . ANDREW CHERRY . * THERE'S a dear little plant that grows in our isle , " Twas Saint Patrick himself , sure , that set it ; And the sun of his labor with pleasure did smile , And with dew from his eye ...
Strana 20
... green little , sham- rock of Ireland . This dear little plant that springs from our soil , When its three little leaves are ex- tended , Denotes from one stalk we together should toil , And ourselves by ourselves be be- friended ; And ...
... green little , sham- rock of Ireland . This dear little plant that springs from our soil , When its three little leaves are ex- tended , Denotes from one stalk we together should toil , And ourselves by ourselves be be- friended ; And ...
Obsah
117 | |
119 | |
127 | |
131 | |
132 | |
137 | |
144 | |
160 | |
112 | |
113 | |
120 | |
121 | |
140 | |
145 | |
147 | |
151 | |
166 | |
174 | |
177 | |
182 | |
184 | |
186 | |
191 | |
193 | |
198 | |
202 | |
205 | |
208 | |
209 | |
225 | |
242 | |
243 | |
252 | |
262 | |
278 | |
307 | |
319 | |
9 | |
16 | |
19 | |
26 | |
33 | |
47 | |
54 | |
68 | |
69 | |
81 | |
99 | |
163 | |
168 | |
176 | |
184 | |
188 | |
212 | |
216 | |
229 | |
233 | |
235 | |
241 | |
243 | |
246 | |
250 | |
255 | |
258 | |
269 | |
271 | |
2 | |
15 | |
23 | |
28 | |
49 | |
53 | |
63 | |
70 | |
78 | |
105 | |
119 | |
129 | |
137 | |
138 | |
145 | |
147 | |
150 | |
200 | |
219 | |
230 | |
242 | |
263 | |
Časté výrazy a frázy
Annie Lisle Ballyporeen Barney O'Hea beautiful Ben Bolt bird blarney bless blooming bonnie boys brave bride bright Charlie charming cheer Colleen Bawn colleen dhas cruthin Constantinople cottage cruthin darling dream Dublin lasses e'er Erin Erin's eyes fair farewell Fermoy flowers friends Garnavilla GEORGE LINLEY girl God save Ireland gone green happy heart Highland hills hone Isle jaunting car Johnny Sands Kate Kathleen kiss Lady land lassie live lonely love thee lover maid maiden Malone Mary Mary Astore mavourneen merry minstrel boy Molly dear morning mother mountains ne'er never night Norah o'er Old Ireland Ould poor ral lal river Lee roam round SAMUEL LOVER shamrock Shan van Vocht shining shore shuile sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow star sure sweet tears tell there's thine thou thousand a-year true Twas voice wave wear weep wild young
Populárne pasáže
Strana 15 - I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter! — Oh, my daughter!
Strana 8 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Strana 9 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Strana 112 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha, for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him follow me!
Strana 8 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Strana 51 - He had lived for his love, for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him ; Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him.
Strana 54 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Strana 160 - ... flee, But I have no refuge from famine and danger, A home and a country remain not to me. Never again, in the green sunny bowers, Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours, .Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh...
Strana 14 - The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. " O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Strana 54 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the ramparts we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast...