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 ...
Ah! the pleasant time hath vanished, ere our wretched doubtingsbanished,All the graceful spirit-people, children of the earth and sea,Whom in ...
Beside that giant stream that foams and swellsBetwixt Hy-Conaill and Moyarta's shore,And guards the isle where good Senanus dwells,A gentle ...
May 28th, 1879Joy to Ierne, joy,This day a deathless crown is won,Her child of song, her glorious son,Her minstrel boyAttains ...
In the furnace the dry branches crackle, the crucible shines as withgold,As they carry the hot flaming metal in haste ...
In that land where the heaven-tinted pencil giveth shape to thesplendour of dreams,Near Florence, the fairest of cities, and Arno, ...
As on this world the young man turns his eyes,When forced to try the dark sea of the grave,Thus did ...
The dream is over,The vision has flown;Dead leaves are lyingWhere roses have blown;Wither'd and strownAre the hopes I cherished,—All hath ...
Let us seek the modest May,She is down in the glen,Hiding and abidingFrom the common gaze of men,Where the silver ...
Those Shandon bells, those Shandon bells!Whose deep, sad tone now sobs, now swells—Who comes to seek this hallowed ground,And sleep ...
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