The Irish Monthly, Volumen 31

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Página 144 - He that hath wife and children hath given hostages to fortune ; for they are impediments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men, which both in affection and means have married and endowed the public.
Página 368 - I'll kneel down, And ask of thee forgiveness; so we'll live, // And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues Talk of court news; and we'll talk with them too, Who loses and who wins; who's in, who's out...
Página 364 - Stain my man's cheeks !— No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall — I will do such things — What they are yet I know not ; but they shall be The terrors of the earth.
Página 406 - O the depth of the riches of the wisdom and of the knowledge of God!
Página 512 - tis something; we may stand Where he in English earth is laid, And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land. Tis little; but it looks in truth As if the quiet bones were blest Among familiar names to rest And in the places of his youth.
Página 364 - If it be you that stir these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water-drops, Stain my man's cheeks! No, you unnatural hags, I will have such revenges on you both, That all the world shall...
Página 340 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs - and God has given my share I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose.
Página 110 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Página 531 - O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst outlasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry ; For he, being amorous on that lovely dye That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, But kill'd, alas ! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss.
Página 305 - Soon will the high Midsummer pomps come on, Soon will the musk carnations break and swell, Soon shall we have gold-dusted snapdragon, Sweet-William with his homely cottage-smell, And stocks in fragrant blow; Roses that down the alleys shine afar, And open, jasmine-muffled lattices, And groups under the dreaming garden-trees, And the full moon, and the white evening-star.

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