Sweet Olde Irish Songs: A Selection of Famous Celtic Airs and Ballads

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Harry C. Phibbs, Robert J. Cole
Log Cabin Press, 1914 - Music - 64 pages
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Page 16 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
Page 1 - THE minstrel boy to the war is gone. In the ranks of death you'll find him ; His father's sword he has girded on, And his wild harp slung behind him. " Land of song !" said the warrior-bard, " Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee...
Page 1 - Tho" all the world be - trays thee, One said, "No chain shall sul - ly thee, Thou soul of love and brav - 'ry Thy B=aEjE|:3S|j==ES -.—f—*-* J—•—'-* * -в—t* ^ sword at least thy rights shall guard, One faith - ful harp shall praise thee.
Page 44 - Oh, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock . Chosen leaf Of bard and chief, Old Erin's native Shamrock...
Page 11 - I've put on my cloak inside out." "Och! jewel," says Rory, "that same is the way You've thrated my heart for this many a day; And 'tis plazed that I am, and why not, to be sure? For '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 61 - Love and liberty's all our own. No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us— Then come o'er the sea, Maiden, with me...
Page 25 - Mononia ! when nature embellish'd the tint Of thy fields and thy mountains so fair, Did she ever intend that a tyrant should print The footstep of Slavery there ! No, Freedom ! whose smile we shall never resign, Go, tell our invaders, the Danes, That 'tis sweeter to bleed for an age at thy shrine, Than to sleep but a moment in chains!
Page 46 - Presumes to stay where nature placed it. Oh ! my Nora's gown for me, That floats as wild as mountain breezes, Leaving every beauty free To sink or swell as Heaven pleases. Yes, my Nora Creina, dear, My simple, graceful Nora Creina, Nature's dress Is loveliness...
Page 4 - twas looking at you, now; Sure, sure, such a pitcher I'll ne'er meet again! 'Twas the pride of my dairy! Oh! Barney MacCleary, You're sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine.
Page 11 - tis all for good luck," says bold Rory O'More. "Arrah, Kathleen, my darlint, you've teased me enough, And 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.

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