The cabinet of Irish literature, with biogr. sketches and literary notices by C.A. Read (T.P. O'Connor).Charles Anderton Read 1880 |
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Стр. 3
... called the Irish National Magazine . It was not , however , till the foundation of the Dublin University Magazine — a literary event destined to deeply influence the lives of so many intel- lectual Irishmen that he attempted anything on ...
... called the Irish National Magazine . It was not , however , till the foundation of the Dublin University Magazine — a literary event destined to deeply influence the lives of so many intel- lectual Irishmen that he attempted anything on ...
Стр. 5
... called by his feelings and affections , yet he had no objection to the designation he had gained in the Aus- trian army . The count was certainly no beauty , but , somehow , very few men of his day had a fancy for telling him so ; a ...
... called by his feelings and affections , yet he had no objection to the designation he had gained in the Aus- trian army . The count was certainly no beauty , but , somehow , very few men of his day had a fancy for telling him so ; a ...
Стр. 6
... called out , ' Upon my soul , you're pleasant companions --but I'll give you a chant to enliven you . ' So saying , he cleared his throat with a couple of short coughs , and struck up , with the voice of a Stentor , the following verse ...
... called out , ' Upon my soul , you're pleasant companions --but I'll give you a chant to enliven you . ' So saying , he cleared his throat with a couple of short coughs , and struck up , with the voice of a Stentor , the following verse ...
Стр. 7
... called for , and over its inspiring contents all the details of the funeral were planned ; and as the clock struck four , the party separated for the night , well satisfied with the result of their labours . When the dissolution of ...
... called for , and over its inspiring contents all the details of the funeral were planned ; and as the clock struck four , the party separated for the night , well satisfied with the result of their labours . When the dissolution of ...
Стр. 10
... called for Molly . " Who was that you were talking to ? I heard a strange voice without there . " The day - a dark and stormy one - was drawing to a close as the yawl got under weigh . She was manned by a stout crew of five hardy ...
... called for Molly . " Who was that you were talking to ? I heard a strange voice without there . " The day - a dark and stormy one - was drawing to a close as the yawl got under weigh . She was manned by a stout crew of five hardy ...
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arms asked beautiful believe born Brian Boru brow called Charles Gavan Duffy chivalry Connla dark dead dear death dream Dublin Duffy earth England English eyes face faith father feel Finglas French Galway green hand hath head hear heart heaven hills holy honour horse hour human India Innisfail Ireland Irish Irish literature Isaac Butt king Lady land light Limerick literary living look Lord Lord Melbourne Malakoff ment mind morning mountains Nathalie nature never night o'er once passed passion poems poet political poor Queen RICHARD DALTON WILLIAMS Rose round scene seemed song sorrow soul spirit story strong sweet tears tell thee things thou thought tion Trinity College true turned voice waves weary wife wild WILLIAM CONNOR MAGEE words young Young Ireland
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Стр. 172 - And no man dug that sepulchre, And no man saw it e'er; For the angels of God upturned the sod, And laid the dead man there.
Стр. 129 - I do not think he is entitled to say that his molecular groupings and his molecular motions explain everything. In reality they explain nothing. The utmost he can affirm is the association of two classes of phenomena, of whose real bond of union he is in absolute ignorance. The problem of the connection of body and soul is as insoluble in its modern form as it was in the pre-scientific ages.
Стр. 59 - The high sun sees not, on the earth, such fiery fearful show ; The roof-ribs swarth, the candent hearth, the ruddy lurid row Of smiths, that stand, an ardent band, like men before the foe; As, quivering through his fleece of flame, the sailing monster, slow Sinks on the anvil — all about the faces fiery grow — "Hurrah!" they shout, "leap out— leap out;" bang, bang, the sledges go ; Hurrah'!
Стр. 301 - (she said), ' whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year : Thine, too, these golden keys, immortal boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.
Стр. 266 - There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved.
Стр. 129 - ... the passage from the current to the needle, if not demonstrable, is thinkable, and that we entertain no doubt as to the final mechanical solution of the problem ; but the passage from the physics of the brain to the corresponding facts of consciousness is unthinkable. Granted that a definite thought and a definite molecular action in the brain occur simultaneously, we do not possess the intellectual organ, nor, apparently, any rudiment of the organ, which would enable us to pass by a process...
Стр. 59 - Our anchor soon must change his bed of fiery rich array, For a hammock at the roaring bows, or an oozy couch of clay; Our anchor soon must change the lay of merry craftsmen here, For the Yeo-heave-o...
Стр. 61 - twas thus the maidens cried, Three merry maidens fair in kirtles of the green ; And Anna laid the rock and the weary wheel aside — The fairest of the four, I ween. They're glancing through the glimmer of the quiet eve, Away in milky wavings of neck and ankle bare ; The heavy-sliding stream in its sleepy song they leave. And the crags in the ghostly air. And linking...
Стр. 173 - With the incarnate Son of God. O lonely tomb in Moab's land! O dark Beth-peor's hill! Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still: God hath his mysteries of grace, Ways that we cannot tell, He hides them deep, like the secret sleep Of him he loved so well.
Стр. 77 - But the Sensitive Plant which could give small fruit Of the love which it felt from the leaf to the root, Received more than all, it loved more than ever, Where none wanted but it, could belong to the giver...