Samuel Lover: A Biographical Sketch with Selections from His Writings and Correspondence

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Harper & brothers, 1880 - Authors, Irish - 256 pages

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Page 91 - Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o
Page 92 - Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee !" The minstrel fell ! but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ! The harp he...
Page 96 - Then Rory, the rogue, stole his arm round her neck, So soft and so white, without freckle or speck, And he looked in her eyes that were beaming with light, And he kissed her sweet lips, — don't you think he was right? "Now, Rory, leave off, sir; you'll hug me no more; That's eight times to-day that you've kissed me before.
Page 104 - Och hone ! widow machree ! With such sins on your head, Sure your peace would be fled. Could you sleep in your bed, Without thinking to see Some ghost or some sprite, That would wake you each night, Crying, "Och hone! widow machree!
Page 215 - Consider the lilies of the field; they toil not, neither do they spin: yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
Page 21 - Atlantic, a comin' home," began Pat, decoyed into the recital ; " whin the winds began to blow, and the sae to rowl, that you'd think the ' Colleen dhas ' (that was her name) would not have a mast left but what would rowl out of her. " Well, sure enough, the masts went by the...
Page 95 - tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More. " Indeed, then," says Kathleen, " don't think of the like, For I half gave a promise to soothering Mike, The ground that I walk on he loves, I'll be bound," "Faith," says Rory, "I'd rather love you than the ground...
Page 47 - BABY was sleeping, Its mother was weeping, For her husband was far on the wild raging sea ; And the tempest was swelling Round the fisherman's dwelling ; And she cried, " Dermot, darling, oh come back to me...
Page 96 - tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More. " Arrah, Kathleen, my darlint, you've teased me enough ; Sure I've thrashed, for your sake, Dinny Grimes and Jim Duff; And I've made myself drinking your health, quite a baste, So I think, after that, I may talk to the priest.
Page 68 - Barny on deck, as he wished to have some conversation with him on what he, very naturally, considered a most extraordinary adventure. Heaven help the captain! he knew little of Irishmen, or he would not have been so astonished. Barny made his appearance. Puzzling question and more puzzling answer followed in quick succession between the commander and Barny, who, in the midst of his dilemma, stamped about, thumped his head, squeezed his caubeen into all manner of shapes, and vented his despair anathematically:...

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