Irish Monthly, Volume 461918 |
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aċt agus ancient Aonghus beautiful Bishop Bronze Age called Catald Catholic celt Celtic Celtic language century charity Christ Christian Church civilisation Cork DANIEL CORKERY dolmens Dublin earth English faith Father féin gaċ Gaelic Geraghty give God's heart Heaven HERBERT MOORE Holy ideals Ireland Irish Monthly J. F. X. O'BRIEN KATHERINE TYNAN Kerry King land language Limerick literature living Lord MACALISTER Mary ment mind monastery mór Muire mystical naċ National University never organisation ornament Ozanam Paddie period poems poet poetry poor PRE-CELTIC IRELAND priest Professor R. A. S. MACALISTER Rathfarnham Castle religion religious Saint Sneem social soul spirit stone story thee things thou thought tion to-day totem tradition tribe Tuatha Dé Danann Vincent de Paul wall words workers write young
Popular passages
Page 472 - Turn but a stone, and start a wing ! *Tis ye, 'tis your estranged faces, That miss the many-splendoured thing. But (when so sad thou canst not sadder) Cry ; — and upon thy so sore loss Shall shine the traffic of Jacob's ladder Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross.
Page 208 - The Irish are in a most unnatural state ; for we see there the minority prevailing over the majority. There is no instance, even in the ten persecutions, of such severity as that which the Protestants of Ireland have exercised against the Catholics.
Page 253 - A totem is a class of material objects which a savage regards with superstitious respect, believing that there exists between him and every member of the class an intimate and altogether special relation...
Page 283 - I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds: Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds From the hid battlements of Eternity ; Those shaken mists a space unsettle, then Round the half-glimpsed turrets slowly wash again.
Page 474 - The sleep-flower sways in the wheat its head, Heavy with dreams, as that with bread: The goodly grain and the sun-flushed sleeper The reaper reaps, and Time the reaper. 1 hang 'mid men my needless head, And my fruit is dreams, as theirs is bread: The goodly men and the sun-hazed sleeper Time shall reap, but after the reaper The world shall glean of me, me the sleeper.
Page 474 - All which I took from thee I did but take, Not for thy harms, But just that thou might'st seek it in My arms. All which thy child's mistake Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home* Rise, clasp My hand, and come.
Page 470 - LITTLE JESUS, wast Thou shy Once, and just so small as I? And what did it feel like to be Out of Heaven, and just like me? Didst Thou sometimes think of there, And ask where all the angels were? I should think that I would cry For my house all made of sky; I would look about the air, And wonder where my angels were; And at waking 'twould distress me — Not an angel there to dress me! Hadst Thou ever any toys, Like us little girls and boys? And didst Thou play in Heaven with all...
Page 211 - Ireland was the school of the west, the quiet habitation of sanctity and literature. If you could give a history, though imperfect, of the Irish nation, from its conversion to Christianity to the invasion from England, you would amplify knowledge with new views and new objects. Set about it therefore, if you can : do what you can easily do without anxious exactness.
Page 176 - A hedge of trees surrounds me, A blackbird's lay sings to me; Above my lined booklet The trilling birds chant to me. In a grey mantle from the top of bushes The cuckoo sings: Verily— may the Lord shield me!— Well do I write under the...
Page 101 - CONSÉCRATION Aux jours de ma jeunesse ardente et solitaire, Du fond de mes péchés vous m'attiriez à Vous, O Dieu, dont les desseins sont voilés de mystère. Partout vous me suiviez comme un amant jaloux; Vous faniez pour mon cœur, d'avance, toutes joies; Vous me faisiez pâlir des plus amers dégoûts. Chasseur, vous m'attendiez, déguisé sous mes proies Et je marchais, vaincu déjà, dans vos chemins, Quand je croyais errer encore dans mes voies.