The Cabinet of Irish Literature: Selections from the Works of the Chief Poets, Orators, and Prose Writers of Ireland ; with Biographical Sketches and Literary Notices, Том 4Blackie, 1880 |
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Стр. 28
... o'er , But to whose heart one braid of her black hair Were worth the world's best throne , and all its treasures rare . The shadow of his eyes is on her soul- His passionate eyes , that held her in such love ! Which love she answered ...
... o'er , But to whose heart one braid of her black hair Were worth the world's best throne , and all its treasures rare . The shadow of his eyes is on her soul- His passionate eyes , that held her in such love ! Which love she answered ...
Стр. 29
... o'er land and lea , With silent steps the lord of light moves on ; Nor while the murmur of the mountain bee Greets my dull ear with music in its tone ! Pale sickness dims my eye , and clouds my brow ; I am content to die - but , oh ...
... o'er land and lea , With silent steps the lord of light moves on ; Nor while the murmur of the mountain bee Greets my dull ear with music in its tone ! Pale sickness dims my eye , and clouds my brow ; I am content to die - but , oh ...
Стр. 30
... o'er the desert paths where we were wont to be- Evening shall darken on the earth ; and , o'er the sandy plain , Some other steed , with slower pace , shall bear me home again . Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye glancing bright ...
... o'er the desert paths where we were wont to be- Evening shall darken on the earth ; and , o'er the sandy plain , Some other steed , with slower pace , shall bear me home again . Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye glancing bright ...
Стр. 31
... o'er ! I could not live a day , and know that we should meet no more ; " Return ! " - alas ! my Arab steed ! what will thy They tempted me , my beautiful ! for hunger's master do , power is strong- When thou , that wast his all of joy ...
... o'er ! I could not live a day , and know that we should meet no more ; " Return ! " - alas ! my Arab steed ! what will thy They tempted me , my beautiful ! for hunger's master do , power is strong- When thou , that wast his all of joy ...
Стр. 41
... o'er the pleasance sways ? It says , " Ere long the evening star Will pierce my darkness from afar : I grieve as one with grief who plays . " Evangeline ! Evangeline ! In that far distant land of mine There stands a yew - tree among ...
... o'er the pleasance sways ? It says , " Ere long the evening star Will pierce my darkness from afar : I grieve as one with grief who plays . " Evangeline ! Evangeline ! In that far distant land of mine There stands a yew - tree among ...
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arms asked beautiful believe born Brian Boru brow called Charles Gavan Duffy chivalry Connla Cuculain dark dead dear death dream Dublin Duffy earth England English eyes face faith father feel French hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hills holy honour horse hour human Innisfail Ireland Irish Irish literature Isaac Butt knew Lady land light literary living look Lord Lord Melbourne Malakoff Melbourne House ment mind morning mother Mount Brandon Nathalie nature never night o'er once ould passed passion poems poet poor Queen RICHARD DALTON WILLIAMS Rose round scene seemed side song sorrow soul spirit story strong sweet tears tell thee things thou thought tion Trinity College true turned voice weary wife wild WILLIAM CONNOR MAGEE words young Young Ireland
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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. 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. 173 - That ever breathed a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen On the deathless page truths half so sage As he wrote down for men. And had he not high honor, — The...
Стр. 266 - It is interesting to contemplate an entangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so different from each other, and dependent on each other in so complex a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us.
Стр. 172 - By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave, In a vale in the land of Moab There lies a lonely grave. 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. 208 - And it came to pass, as Peter passed throughout all quarters, he came down also to the saints which dwelt at Lydda.
Стр. 173 - That was the grandest funeral That ever passed on earth; But no man heard the trampling, Or saw the train go forth — Noiselessly as the daylight Comes back when night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek Grows into the great sun. Noiselessly as the springtime Her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills Open their thousand leaves...
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. 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. 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...