Highways and Byways in Donegal and Antrim

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Macmillan and Company, limited, 1899 - Donegal (Ireland : County) - 319 pages
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Page 39 - Farewell to every white cascade from the Harbour to Belleek, And every pool where fins may rest, and ivy-shaded creek; The sloping fields, the lofty rocks, where ash and holly grow, The one split yew-tree gazing on the curving flood below; The Lough, that winds through islands under Turaw mountain green; And Castle...
Page 38 - While far upon the southern line, to guard it like a wall, The Leitrim mountains clothed in blue gaze calmly over all, And watch the ship sail up or down, the red flag at her stern; — Adieu to these, adieu to all the winding banks of Erne!
Page 39 - Atlantic-setting sun; To breathe the buoyant salted air, and sport among the waves; To gather shells on sandy beach, and tempt the gloomy caves; To watch the flowing, ebbing tide, the boats, the crabs, the fish; Young men and maids to meet and smile, and form a tender wish; The sick and old in search of health, for all things have their turnAnd I must quit my native shore, and the winding banks of Erne!
Page 41 - I wish no one any hurt; The Main Street, Back Street, College Lane, the Mall, and Portnasun, If any foes of mine are there, I pardon every one. I hope that man and womankind will do the same by me ; For my heart is sore and heavy at voyaging the sea. My loving friends I'll bear in mind, and often fondly turn To think of Belashanny, and the winding banks of Erne.
Page 38 - And not a face in all the place but partly seems my own ; There's not a house or window, there's not a field or hill, But, east or west, in foreign lands, I'll recollect them still. I leave my warm heart with you, though my back I'm forced to turn — So adieu to Ballyshanny, and the winding banks of Erne!
Page 37 - The little old town where I was born has a voice of its own, low, solemn, persistent, humming through the air day and night, summer and winter. Whenever I think of that town I seem to hear the voice. The river which makes it rolls over rocky ledges into the tide. Before spreads a great ocean in sunshine or storm ; behind stretches a many-islanded lake. On the south runs a wavy line of blue mountains; and on the north, over green, rocky hills, rise peaks of a more distant range.
Page 41 - Though heads that now are black and brown must meanwhile gather grey, New faces rise by every hearth, and old ones drop away — Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside; It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waters wide. And if the Lord allows me, I surely will return To my native Belashanny, and the winding banks of Erne ! WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. Corrymeela QVER here in England I'm helpin...
Page 134 - All these circumstances connected together, has brought hunger to reign among them to that degree, that the generality of the peasantry are on the small allowance of one meal a day, and many families cannot afford more than one meal in two days, and sometimes one meal in three days. Their children crying and fainting with hunger, and their parents weeping, being full of grief, hunger, debility and dejection, with glooming aspect, looking at their children likely to expire in the jaws of starvation.
Page 39 - To "shanachus" and wise old talk of Erin's days gone by — Who trench'd the rath on such a hill, and where the bones may lie Of saint, or king, or warrior chief; with tales of fairy power, And tender ditties sweetly sung to pass the twilight hour. The mournful song of exile is now for me to learn — Adieu, my dear companions on the winding banks of Erne...
Page 146 - I had to repeat often to Lord G,eorge (he says), to which he could not refuse essential consent, his is the largest attempt at benevolence and beneficence on the modern system (the emancipation, all for liberty, abolition of capital punishment, roast goose at Christmas system) ever seen by me or like to be seen. Alas ! how can it prosper, except to the soul of the noble man himself who earnestly tries it and works at it, making himself a slave...

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