The Irish Monthly, 第 26 巻McGlashan & Gill, 1898 |
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Abraham Abell ACROSTICS answered asked beautiful Billy boys brother Byrse called Catholic Church Colonel Cork Corney Croesus dark Dartmoor Davie dear death devoted Diarmuid door Dublin edition Ethna exclaimed eyes face Father Garrett Father Horbury Father Peter Fenian Finn give Granton hand Hardlow heart Hilary hills holy Horbury interesting Ireland Irish Irish Language John Kittleshot lads Lady Lance laughed light literary Lizzie London looked Lord Macbeth Magazine men of Dartmouth millionaire Miss Rippell Moore mother never Newry night Ogham Philip Moore poems poor present priest published readers Ridingdale Robin Saint Shakspere sing Sir John Gilbert smile Sniggery Society sonnet soul Squire story sure sweet tell thee things thou thought Timington verse Vincent voice volume wife Windele woman words writing young
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178 ページ - All causes shall give way ; I am in blood Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er : Strange things I have in head, that will to hand ; Which must be acted, ere they may be scann'd.
71 ページ - Like the poor cat i' the adage? Macb. Prithee, peace I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none. Lady M. What beast was't then That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And, to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender...
67 ページ - Your face, my thane, is as a book, where men May read strange -matters: — to beguile the time, Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent...
515 ページ - Beneath him with new wonder now he views, To all delight of human sense exposed, In narrow room, nature's whole wealth, yea more, A heaven on earth...
90 ページ - Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie, His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills. In him the savage Virtue of the Race, Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead : Nor did he change ; but kept in lofty place The wisdom which adversity had bred. Glad were the Vales, and every cottage hearth ; The Shepherd Lord was honoured more and more: And, ages after he was laid in earth, " The Good Lord Clifford
391 ページ - In a higher world it is otherwise ; but here below to live is to change, and to be perfect is to have changed often.
70 ページ - And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting "I dare not" wait upon "I would," Like the poor cat i
405 ページ - For pinching days are near. The fireside for the cricket, The wheat-stack for the mouse, When trembling night-winds whistle And moan all round the house. The frosty ways like iron, The branches plumed with snow, — Alas! in Winter dead and dark, Where can poor Robin go? Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! And a crumb of bread for Robin, His little heart to cheer!
555 ページ - Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole ! To Mary Queen the praise be given ! She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul.
70 ページ - Was the hope drunk, Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since, And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely?