The popular songs of Ireland, collected and ed., with intr. and notes, by T.C. Croker

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Henry Colburn, 1839 - 340 Seiten
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Seite 232 - Of thy belfry, knelling Its bold notes free, Made the bells of Shandon Sound far more grand, on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee. I've heard bells tolling Old Adrian's Mole...
Seite 82 - For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you ; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
Seite 196 - Desmond :—a thousand wild fountains Come down to that lake, from their home in the mountains. There grows the wild ash, and a time-stricken willow Looks chidingly down on the mirth of the billow ; As, like some gay child, that sad monitor scorning, It lightly laughs back to the laugh of the morning.
Seite 230 - WITH deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells. On this I ponder Where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, Sweet Cork, of thee, — With thy bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Seite 131 - Blacke-water, and the Liffar deep, Sad Trowis, that once his people over-ran, Strong Allo tombling from Slewlogher steep, And Mulla mine, whose waves I whilom taught to weep.
Seite 31 - They willingly eat the herb Shamrock, being of a sharp taste, which, as they run and are chased to and fro, they snatch like beasts out of the ditches.
Seite 269 - Father Tom." Of ships there's one fixt For lodging convicts — A floating
Seite 198 - Still, still in those wilds might young liberty rally, And send her strong shout over mountain and valley, The star of the west might yet rise in its glory, And the land that was darkest be brightest in story.
Seite 221 - And on the broken pavement, here and there, Doth many a stinking sprat and herring lie; A brandy and tobacco shop is near, And hens, and dogs, and hogs, are feeding by : And here a sailor's jacket hangs to dry. At every door are sunburnt matrons seen, Mending old nets to catch the scaly fry ; Now singing shrill, and scolding eft between ; Scolds answer foul-mouth'd scolds; bad neighbourhood I ween.
Seite 91 - Lichfield, man and boy, above eight-and-fifty years, and I believe have not consumed eight-and-fifty ounces of meat.

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