The Irish Quarterly Review, Том 4

Передня обкладинка
W.B. Kelly, 1854
 

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Сторінка 899 - It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of people and wicked, condemned men, to be the people with whom you plant; and not only so, but it spoileth the plantation; for they will ever live like rogues and not fall to work, but be lazy and do mischief, and spend victuals, and be quickly weary, and then certify over to their country, to the discredit of the plantation.
Сторінка 272 - So runs my dream; but what am I? An infant crying in the night; An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry.
Сторінка 677 - Wings from the wind to please her mind. Notes from the lark I'll borrow : Bird, prune thy wing; nightingale, sing, To give my love good-morrow. To give my love good-morrow, Notes from them all I'll borrow. Wake from thy nest, robin redbreast; Sing, birds, in every furrow; And from each hill let music shrill Give my fair love good-morrow!
Сторінка 505 - OH ! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME. OH ! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid ; Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
Сторінка 843 - O, how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day ; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away ! Re-enter PANTHINO.
Сторінка 951 - That from and after the passing of this Act no Person shall be removed, nor shall any Warrant be granted for the Removal of any Person, from any Parish in which such Person shall have resided for Five Years next before the Application for the Warrant...
Сторінка 615 - Not to covet nor desire other men's goods; but to learn and labour truly to get mine own living, and to do my duty in that state of life unto which it shall please God to call me.
Сторінка 871 - And forced himself to drive, but loved to draw: For fear but freezes minds; but love, like heat, Exhales the soul sublime to seek her native seat.
Сторінка 673 - For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, Which is the hot condition of their blood ; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes...
Сторінка 372 - But, what is yet more extraordinary, within this month, these little ragamuffins have, in great numbers, taken it into their heads to frequent the early morning prayers, which are held every morning at the cathedral at seven o'clock.

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