The Poems of J.J. Callanan

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Messrs. Bolster, 70, Patrick-Street., 1847 - English poetry - 135 pages
 

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Page 59 - 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.
Page 96 - O'Sullivan Bear. Scully! thou false one, You basely betrayed him, In his strong hour of need, When thy right hand should aid him; He fed thee — he clad thee — You had all could delight thee: You left him — you sold him — May Heaven requite thee! Scully! may all kinds Of evil attend thee! On thy dark road of life May no kind one befriend thee! May fevers long burn thee, And agues long freeze thee! May the strong hand of God In His red anger seize thee! Had he died calmly, I...
Page 112 - O'Neal')' of the Hostages ; — ConJ whose high name, On a hundred red battles has floated to fame, Let the long grass still sigh undisturbed o'er thy sleep ; Arise not to shame us, awake not to weep.
Page 104 - MANY a day have I made good ale in the glen, That came not of stream or malt, like the brewing of men: My bed was the ground ; my roof, the green-wood above ; And the wealth that I sought, one far kind glance from my Love.
Page 107 - Louis, our eyes are on thee ? Are thy lofty ships walking in strength o'er the sea? In freedom's last strife if you linger or quail, No morn e'er shall break on the night of the Gael. But should the king's son, now bereft of his right, Come, proud in his strength, for his country to fight; Like leaves on the trees will new people arise, And deep from their mountains shout back to my criea. When the prince, now an exile, shall come for his own, The isles of his father, his rights and his throne, My...
Page 86 - And down, still chafing from their strife, the indignant waters lay. When the calm and purple morning shone out on high Dunmore, Full many a mangled corpse was seen on Inchidony's shore ; And to this day the fisherman shows where the scoffers sank ; And still he calls that hillock green the
Page 94 - I have caused divers of them to be translated unto me, that I might understand them, and surely they savoured of sweet wit and good invention, but skilled not of the goodly ornaments of poetry ; yet were they sprinkled with some pretty flowers of their natural device, which gave good grace and comeliness unto them...
Page 60 - 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.
Page 100 - The girl I love is comely, straight and tall ; Down her white neck her auburn tresses fall : Her dress is neat, her carriage light and free ; — Here's a health to that charming maid whoe'er she be ! The rose's blush but fades beside her cheek ; Her eyes are blue her forehead pale and meek ; Her lips like cherries on a summer tree ; — Here's a health to...
Page 113 - For the stranger now rules in the land of the Gael. Where, where are the woods that oft rung to your cheer, Where you waked the wild chase of the wolf and the deer? Can those dark heights, with ramparts all frowning and riven, Be the hills where your forests wav'd brightly in heaven? O bondsmen of Egypt, no Moses appears To light your dark steps thro

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