Irish Melodies: National Airs, Ballads, Songs, Etc

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Collins & Payn., 1828 - 210 páginas
 

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Página 12 - 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.
Página 167 - And the angel which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by him that liveth for ever and ever, who created heaven, and the things that therein are, and the earth, and the things that therein are, and the sea, and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer...
Página 121 - I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather, I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed...
Página 17 - 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. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace.
Página 76 - DEAR Harp of my country ! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp ! I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song...
Página 153 - When night, with wings of starry gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
Página 170 - Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal. Joy of the desolate, Light of the straying, Hope, when all others die, fadeless and pure, Here speaks the Comforter, in GOD'S name saying — " Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.
Página 156 - When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Página 160 - Praise to the CONQUEROR, praise to the LORD, • His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword ! Who shall return to tell Egypt the story • Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride...
Página 26 - Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree ? Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me...

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