Duffy's Hibernian Magazine: A Monthly Journal of Legends, Tales, and Stories, Irish Antiquities, Biography, Science, and Art..., Volume 2J. Duffy, 1862 |
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Page 23
... face turned upon the brine- Bright - haired , black - locked , Madeline . Or in dark gardens , statued , cool , And steeped in golden silences , ( Save when the bird's throat bubbled low , ) I've seen her by the fountain sit , And ...
... face turned upon the brine- Bright - haired , black - locked , Madeline . Or in dark gardens , statued , cool , And steeped in golden silences , ( Save when the bird's throat bubbled low , ) I've seen her by the fountain sit , And ...
Page 28
... face the excitement of a Roman holi- day . Of a very different character was the dinner . Perhaps no better in- stance of the excesses by which it was marked can be cited than the descrip- tion of the feast of Trimalchio in Petronius ...
... face the excitement of a Roman holi- day . Of a very different character was the dinner . Perhaps no better in- stance of the excesses by which it was marked can be cited than the descrip- tion of the feast of Trimalchio in Petronius ...
Page 37
... I'm not goin ' to fight you . Willie shall have the farm . I'll not stan ' his dull looks , an ' your pale face . Take the key o ' the ould brown chest , an ' fetch the papers when you list , they're made out an 1862. ] 37 HONORIA DEANE .
... I'm not goin ' to fight you . Willie shall have the farm . I'll not stan ' his dull looks , an ' your pale face . Take the key o ' the ould brown chest , an ' fetch the papers when you list , they're made out an 1862. ] 37 HONORIA DEANE .
Page 38
... face over the dear old rough hand , as it lay on the chair - arm , and kissed it hurriedly , as if ashamed of the action , while she murmured . " You're very good to me , father ; you're too good to me . ' Michael Deane laughed the rare ...
... face over the dear old rough hand , as it lay on the chair - arm , and kissed it hurriedly , as if ashamed of the action , while she murmured . " You're very good to me , father ; you're too good to me . ' Michael Deane laughed the rare ...
Page 39
... face , and deadened and darkened the eyes , and fettered the will with a heavy langour . Nature sat pale with mist , still and passive , unshed tears dimming her eyes , and a host of muttered complainings stifled in her breast . The ...
... face , and deadened and darkened the eyes , and fettered the will with a heavy langour . Nature sat pale with mist , still and passive , unshed tears dimming her eyes , and a host of muttered complainings stifled in her breast . The ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alice amid amongst ancient antiquities appeared Balor beautiful Bossuet brother called Celts Christian colour dark dead dear death doubt dream Druids Dublin eyes face father fear feel Fénelon fire flax George Giraldus Cambrensis give grave hand happy head heard heart heaven Honoria honour human Ireland Irish Jesuit Kilmainham Kincely king knew labour lady Lamartine land language Lanty leave light Lillie live look Lord Madagascar Madame de Montespan Marsdale matter means mind Montecilfone morning Naples nature never night noble observed once oysters passed poet poor possession present Priory Rentoul replied round royal seemed Sennan Sir Algernon smile soon sorrow soul spirit stone stood sweet tell things thought tion Towers Tregona Treverbyn Trevillers Trimalchio turned Urcella voice Wayland whilst word young
Popular passages
Page 259 - My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky : So was it when my life began ; So is it now I am a man ; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die ! " The child is father of the man ; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety.
Page 263 - Ah! Then, if mine had been the Painter's hand, To express what then I saw, and add the gleam, The light that never was, on sea or land, The consecration, and the Poet's dream; I would have planted thee, thou hoary Pile Amid a world how different from this!
Page 306 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease ; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, "Peace !" Peace ! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies ! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Page 405 - THREE fishers went sailing away to the West, Away to the West as the sun went down; Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, And the children stood watching them out of the town; For men must work, and women must weep, And there's little to earn, and many to keep, Though the harbor bar be moaning.
Page 405 - And the night-rack came rolling up, ragged and brown ; But men must work, and women must weep, Though storms be sudden, and waters deep, And the harbor bar be moaning. Three corpses lay out on the shining sands In the morning gleam as the tide went down...
Page 459 - Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide thee ! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold ; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with.
Page 459 - Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, Ere humane statute purged the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd Too terrible for the ear: the time has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die. And there an end; but now they rise again...
Page 236 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
Page 354 - I saw thrones And circling fires, And a dome rose near me, as by a spell, Whence flowed the tones Of silver lyres And many voices in wreathed swell; And their thrilling chime Fell on mine ears As the heavenly hymn of an angel-band — " It is now the time, These be the years, Of Cahal Mor of the Wine-red Hand ! " I sought the hall, And behold!
Page 306 - The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder The diapason of the cannonade.