The Book of Irish Ballads (Google eBook)

Front Cover
Denis Florence MacCarthy
J. Duffy, 1846 - Ballads, Irish - 252 pages
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Page 213 - I could kneel all night in prayer To heal your many ills ! And one . . . beamy smile from you Would float like light between My toils and me, my own, my true, My Dark Rosaleen ! My fond Rosaleen ! Would give me life and soul anew, A second life, a soul anew, My Dark Rosaleen...
Page 31 - Till all the rout retreat. By this the stars began to wink, They shriek, they fly, the tapers sink, And down y-drops the knight : For never spell by fairie laid With strong enchantment bound a glade, Beyond the length of night Chill, dark, alone, adreed, he lay, Till up the welkin rose the day, Then deem'd the dole was o'er ; But wot ye well his harder lot ? His seely back the bunch had got Which Edwin lost afore. This tale a Sybil-nurse ared; She softly stroak'd my youngling head, And when the tale...
Page 114 - I walked entranced Through a land of Morn : The sun, with wondrous excess of light, Shone down and glanced Over seas of corn And lustrous gardens aleft and right. Even in the clime Of resplendent Spain, Beams no such sun upon such a land ; But it was the time, 'Twas in the reign, Of Cahal Mor of the Wine-red Hand. Anon stood nigh By my side a man Of princely aspect and port sublime Him queried I " O, my Lord and Khan, What clime is this, and what golden time...
Page 115 - Then saw I thrones, And circling fires, And a Dome rose near me, as by a spell, Whence flowed the tones Of silver lyres And many voices in wreathed swell; And their thrilling chime Fell on mine ears As the heavenly hymn of an angel-band 'It is now the time, These be the years, Of Cahal Mor of the Wine-red Hand.
Page 104 - I can never dream of meeting afar or anear, In the east or the west, such heroes and lords! Never, Kincora! Oh, dear are the images my memory calls up Of Brian Boru! how he never would miss To give me at the banquet the first bright cup! Ah! why did he heap on me honour like this? Why, oh, Kincora?
Page 29 - They smelt the fresh approach of day, And heard a cock to crow ; The whirling wind that bore the crowd Has clapp'd the door, and whistled loud, To warn them all to go. Then screaming all at once they fly, And all at once the tapers...
Page 195 - Uro, come with me! come with me! come with me! Oro, come with me! brown girl, sweet! And, oh! I would go through snow and sleet If you would come with me, my brown girl, sweet ! Love of my heart, my fair Pastheen!
Page 116 - It was by the stream Of the castled Maine, One Autumn eve, in the Teuton's land, That I dreamed this dream Of the time and reign Of Cahal Mor of the Wine-red Hand ! JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN YOUR FEAR.
Page 163 - Ye should make Yourselves barren, Than see your children slaves throughout Tirawley ! " Neither take I your eyesight from you ; as you took Mine and ours : I would have you daily look On one another's eyes, When the strangers tyrannize By your hearths, and blushes arise, That ye brook Without vengeance The insults of troops of Tibbots throughout Tirawley !
Page 35 - Rash dreamer, return ! O, ye winds of the main, Bear him back to his own peaceful Ara again. Rash fool ! for a vision of fanciful bliss To barter thy calm life of labour and peace. The warning of reason was spoken in vain ; He never revisited Ara again ! Night fell on the deep, amidst tempest and spray, And he died on the waters, away, far away ! The above, as a matter of course, is placed In succession to Dr.

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