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Página 119 - THE harp that once through TARA'S halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on TARA'S walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more ! n.
Página 1 - He looks abroad into the varied field Of nature, and though poor perhaps, compared With those whose mansions glitter in his sight, Calls the delightful scenery all his own. His are the mountains, and the valleys his, And the resplendent rivers : his to enjoy With a propriety that none can feel, But who with filial confidence inspired Can lift to heaven an unpresumptuous eye, And smiling say, My Father made them all.
Página 98 - Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill ! Oh ! no ; it was something more exquisite still. 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear ; And who felt how the best charms of nature improve When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
Página 91 - Fearless she had track'd his feet To this rocky, wild retreat ; And, when morning met his view, Her mild glances met it too. Ah ! your Saints have cruel hearts ! Sternly from his bed he starts. And, with rude, repulsive shock, Hurls her from the beetling rock. Glendalough ! thy gloomy wave Soon was gentle Kathleen's grave ! Soon the Saint (yet ah ! too late) Felt her love, and mourn'd her fate. When he said,
Página 106 - THE Minstrel Boy to the war is gone, In the ranks of death you'll find him : His father's sword he has girded on, And his wild harp slung behind him. — " Land of song !" said the warrior-bard, " Though all the world betrays thee, " One sword, at least thy rights shall guard, " One faithful harp shall praise thee...
Página 90 - BY that Lake, whose gloomy shore Sky-lark never warbles o'er, Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young Saint Kevin stole to sleep. " Here, at least," he calmly said, Woman ne'er shall find my bed.
Página 1 - Are they not his by a peculiar right, And by an emphasis of interest his, Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love That plann'd, and built, and still upholds a world So clothed with beauty for rebellious man...
Página 106 - RICH and rare were the gems she wore, And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore; But oh ! her beauty was far beyond Her sparkling gems, or snow-white wand. ' ' Lady ! dost thou not fear to stray, " So lone and lovely through this bleak way? " Are Erin's sons so good or so cold, ' ' As not to be tempted by woman or gold?