Irish Monthly, Volume 421914 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 86
Page 7
... voice and pen , he was , on special occasions , pressed into the pulpits of Cork and Limerick , and too often found it impossible to escape . He fell into such a state of nervous prostration that he had to be relieved from all duty for ...
... voice and pen , he was , on special occasions , pressed into the pulpits of Cork and Limerick , and too often found it impossible to escape . He fell into such a state of nervous prostration that he had to be relieved from all duty for ...
Page 12
... voices were ever calling , calling to you ; and you had to shade your eyes from the glare of the sunlit foam , that not ... voice , the kindly smile , all gone . And yet not alto- gether gone ; for his example lives - the example of pain ...
... voices were ever calling , calling to you ; and you had to shade your eyes from the glare of the sunlit foam , that not ... voice , the kindly smile , all gone . And yet not alto- gether gone ; for his example lives - the example of pain ...
Page 18
... voice made itself heard : " Are you the ' Spitfire ' of Plymouth , with Francis Drake on board ? " " Yes ! " answered the lieutenant before Drake could speak , " and I think I know your voice . Master Medways ? " " The same . Oh , for ...
... voice made itself heard : " Are you the ' Spitfire ' of Plymouth , with Francis Drake on board ? " " Yes ! " answered the lieutenant before Drake could speak , " and I think I know your voice . Master Medways ? " " The same . Oh , for ...
Page 29
... hand Great Mother Nature's heart , nor did we see The glory of her face , nor understand . Her voice that calls us towards Eternity . R. M. G. TH DR . SIGERSON'S MASTERPIECE By ELLEN O'CONNOR HE quicken HAND IN HAND 29 Hand in Hand By ...
... hand Great Mother Nature's heart , nor did we see The glory of her face , nor understand . Her voice that calls us towards Eternity . R. M. G. TH DR . SIGERSON'S MASTERPIECE By ELLEN O'CONNOR HE quicken HAND IN HAND 29 Hand in Hand By ...
Page 33
... Voices - dying in the distant air ; Soft Radiance - paling down the dark'ning sky ; Four Swans - receding with faint wings of snow Never to come again through all his life . Utter blank despair rings out in that " never to come again ...
... Voices - dying in the distant air ; Soft Radiance - paling down the dark'ning sky ; Four Swans - receding with faint wings of snow Never to come again through all his life . Utter blank despair rings out in that " never to come again ...
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Common terms and phrases
asked beautiful bell birds Blessed Brian Brigid Brodir brother Burnham Abbey castle Catholic chief Christ Church Clan Clan Donald Clan MacLean Coll College Danes death Dublin Dunyvaig Dunyvaig Castle Earl Earl of Mar English eyes face faith Father Fring girl give glory Grace green hand heard heart hills Holy honour interest Ireland IRISH MONTHLY Islay James Jesuits Katharine Tynan King Lady Agnes light Lindisfarne live Lizzie look Lord Lough Derg Luggala MacLean Michael Field mind mother Mull Muriel never night once peace poems poet Polotsk Pope Pope Pius X praise prayer Price priest Queen readers Rhinns round seemed sing Sir Angus MacDonald Sir Lauchlan smile song soul spirit stood story sweet tell things thou thought told turned Ulster voice volume White Russia wonder words XLII.-No young
Popular passages
Page 216 - Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon For simple sheep ; and such are daffodils With the green world they live in...
Page 454 - 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 455 - 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 own Rosaleen! Would give me life and soul anew, A second life, a soul anew, My dark Rosaleen ! Oh!
Page 186 - If music be the food of love, play on; Give me excess of it: that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again, it had a dying fall: O, it came o'er my ear, like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets; Stealing and giving odour.
Page 64 - Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And turn his merry note Unto the sweet bird's throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather. Who doth ambition shun And loves to live i...
Page 140 - Praised be my Lord for our sister the moon, and for the stars, the which he has set clear and lovely in heaven. Praised be my Lord for our brother, the wind, and for air and cloud, calms and all weather, by the which thou upholdest in life all creatures. Praised be my Lord for our sister water, who is very serviceable unto us, and humble, and precious, and clean.
Page 321 - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.
Page 66 - As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a mane ; The tane unto the t'other say, " Where sall we gang and dine to-day...
Page 453 - 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...
Page 533 - ... the human effort and sorrow going on perpetually from age to age, waves rolling for ever, and winds moaning for ever, and faithful hearts trusting and sickening for ever, and brave lives dashed away about the rattling beach like weeds...