The Book of Irish Ballads

Front Cover
Denis Florence M'Carthy
Jam. Duffy, 1846 - Ballads, Irish - 252 pages
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Page 211 - 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 210 - All day long in unrest, To and fro do I move, The very soul within my breast Is wasted for you, love! The heart in my bosom faints To think of you, my Queen, My life of life, my saint of saints. My dark Rosaleenl My own Rosaleen! To hear your sweet and sad complaints, My life, my love, my saint of saints, My dark Rosaleen!
Page 211 - Over dews, over sands, Will I fly, for your weal: Your holy delicate white hands Shall girdle me with steel. At home, in your emerald bowers, From morning's dawn till e'en, You'll pray for me, my flower of flowers, My Dark Rosaleen!
Page 209 - O, MY Dark Rosaleen, Do not sigh, do not weep ! The priests are on the ocean green, They march along the deep. There's wine from the royal Pope, Upon the ocean green ; And Spanish ale shall give you hope, My Dark Rosaleen...
Page 112 - 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 31 - 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 was done, " Thus some are born, my son," she crie% " With base impediments to rise, And some are born with none.
Page 209 - I sailed with sails On river and on lake. The Erne, at its highest flood, I dashed across unseen, For there was lightning in my blood, My dark Rosaleen!
Page 114 - 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 28 - He spoke, and all a sudden there Light musick floats in wanton air ; The monarch leads the queen ; The rest their faerie partners found, And Mable trimly tript the ground With Edwin of the green. The dauncing past, the board was laid, And siker such a feast was made As heart and lip desire ; Withouten hands the dishes fly, The glasses with a wish Come nigh, And with a wish retire. But now to please the...
Page 19 - It was then your Mary ; she's frae Castle-cary, It was then your true love I met by the tree ; Proud as her heart is and modest her nature, Sweet were the kisses that she gave to me.

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