O’Connell (Denis Florence MacCarthy Poems)
August 6th , 1875.Harp of my native landThat lived anew 'neath Carolan's master hand;Harp on whose electric chords,The minstrel Moore's ...
August 6th , 1875.Harp of my native landThat lived anew 'neath Carolan's master hand;Harp on whose electric chords,The minstrel Moore's ...
O Erin! thou broad-spreading valley--thou well-watered land of freshstreams,When I gaze on thy hills greenly sloping, where the light of ...
In that land where the heaven-tinted pencil giveth shape to thesplendour of dreams,Near Florence, the fairest of cities, and Arno, ...
Hearing how blessed Enda lived apart,Amid the sacred caves of Ara-mhor,And how beneath his eye, spread like a chart,Lay all ...
O Ita, mother of my heart and mind--My nourisher, my fosterer, my friend,Who taught me first to God's great will ...
Where foams the white torrent, and rushes the rill,Down the murmuring slopes of the echoing hill—Where the eagle looks out ...
Bless the dear old verdant land,Brother, wert thou born of it?As thy shadow life doth stand,Twining round its rosy band,Did ...
In the soft sunny regions that circle the waistOf the globe with a girdle of topaz and gold,Which heave with ...
A bright beam came to my window frame,This sweet May morn,And it said to the cold, hard glass:Oh! let me ...
Oh! the orator's voice is a mighty power,As it echoes from shore to shore,And the fearless pen has more sway ...
With that pleasant smile thou wearest,Thou art gazing on the fairest Wonders of the earth and sea:Do thou not, in ...
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