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Acht Agus Alderford ancient bard beauty beidh bh-fuil bheith bhidh budh Carolan Cearbhallán celebrated century chán Charles O'Conor cheer chéile composed compositions countrymen de'n dear descended dhuit do'n dubh Dublin Eibhlín Eileen a Roon English fair favorite féin gách Galway gán genius gentleman grádh harp heart Ireland Irish bard Irish language Irish poetry James Plunkett JOHN D'ALTON Kén Kgus known lady land language leát liom lov'd M'Dermott Maguire maid már Mayo me-si Meath melody Milesian minstrel Miss Brooke mo chroídhe mór Munster nách native O'Conor o'er O'Kelly O'Kelly's O'Neill original Planxty poems poet poetical poetry praise present preserved remain ró chán rúin song stanza sweet talents thee THOMAS FURLONG thou translation tráth Ulster venerable Charles verse words writer Yiúr zách
Page 323 - It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the queen of France, then the dauphiness, at Versailles, and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision.
Page 15 - OH ! turn thee to me, my only love, Let not despair confound me ; Turn, and may blessings from above In life and death surround thee. This fond heart throbs for thee alone — Oh ! leave me not to languish, Look on these eyes, whence sleep hath flown, Bethink thee of my anguish : My hopes, my thoughts, my destiny — All dwell, all rest, sweet girl, on thee.
Page 184 - Good Lord ! what a sight, After all their good cheer, For people to fight In the midst of their beer ! They rise from their feast, And hot are their brains, A cubit at least The length of their skeans3.
Page lxxii - OH ! if the atheist's words were true, If those we seek to save Sink — and, in sinking from our view, Are lost beyond the grave ! If life thus closed, how dark and drear Would this bewildered earth appear — Scarce worth the dust it gave : A tract of black sepulchral gloom, One yawning, ever-opening tomb...
Page 196 - Leurs compositions sont d'une grâce, d'une mollesse, d'un raffinement, soit d'expression, soit de sentiment, dont n'approche aucun peuple ancien ou moderne. La langue qu'ils parlent dans ce monde à leurs maîtresses semble être celle qu'ils parleront dans l'autre à leurs houris.
Page 161 - tis shame and sin To see the time we're losing ; Come lads, be gay, trip, trip away, While those who sit keep boozing. ' Where's Thady Oge ? up, Dan, you rogue, Why stand you shilly shally ; There's Mora near, and Una's here, And yonder's sporting Sally : Now frisk it round — aye, there's the sound Our sires were fond of hearing : The harp rings clear — hear, gossip, hear ! O sure such notes are cheering.
Page 341 - ONE morning very early, one morning in the spring, I heard a maid in Bedlam who mournfully did sing ; Her chains she rattled on her hands while sweetly thus sung she ; " I love my love, because I know my love loves me.
Page 181 - V. cello (Edinb., 1801) ;An Historical Enquiry respecting the Performance of the Harp in the Highlands of Scotland, from the Earliest Times until it was discontinued about the year 1734 . . . (Edinb., 1807).
Page lxiii - In all my wand'rings round this world of care, In all my griefs — and God has given my share — I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting, by repose.