Life scenes and social sketchesW. Kent & Company, 1861 - 155 стор. |
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Agnes Arthingworth artist Ashthorpe beautiful Billy bog oak BONMAHON Burn-the-Wind cabin Cahill Canal Lock Charles Dempster Christmas angels Christmas Eve church clouds cold cottage County Waterford crock of goold dark death-watch delightful Dempster dhraming disappointed hopes Dolly door dreams dwelling eyes face fairy fame fancy Fanny father feeling felt fever fire forsaken heart hill humble husband inhabitants Ireland Irish Joseph Lovell Judy knew land London Bridge lonely looked Lorimer Michael Cahill Mick Mickleen mind mind Of love misery morning Mount Callan Munster neighbourhood neighbouring never night Paddy Paddy Sullivan parish passed picture poor scarcely SCENES AND SOCIAL side Sketchley smile SOCIAL SKETCHES sorrow soul spirit stood strange Sullivan supernatural sweet Teetotalism Teetotaller tell thee thought told truth turned wandered watch Weldon Jack wife Wolfryche young youth yugh
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Сторінка 21 - Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Сторінка 2 - DARK is the night ! how dark ! no light — no fire ! Cold, on the hearth, the last faint sparks expire ! Shivering she watches by the cradle side For him who pledged her love — last year a bride ! " Hark ! 'tis his footstep ! No — 'tis past ; 'tis gone.
Сторінка 42 - They know not of the scanty meal With small pale faces round ; No fire upon the cold, damp hearth, When snow is on the ground.
Сторінка 67 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Сторінка 60 - Will ye let a demon bind ye In the chain of Helot thrall ? Will ye let the last hour find ye In the lowest pit of all ? Oh ! stand back in godly terror, When Temptation's joys begin ; "Tis such wily maze of Error, Few get out who once go in. Shun the " dram" that can but darken, When its vapour-gleam has fled.
Сторінка 46 - Royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle. This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war, This happy breed of men— this little world. This precious stone set In the silver sea, This blessed spot, this earth, this realm, this England.
Сторінка 127 - ... misery stared him in the face. In the midst of his dilemma, he stopped to ask a question from an old man selling blacking ; for Day and Martin, or the immortal Warren, had not then commenced their labours, and itinerant blacking merchants were common. " You are from Ireland, I believe ?" said the old man. , " Sorra the day's luck I 've seen since I left it,
Сторінка 127 - There is not a cranny in the ruined churches or dilapidated castles that stud the hill -sides, or adorn the valleys of the garden-land of Erin, but that, in addition to the legends of " good people," leprocauns, or other traditionary, but somewhat visionary inhabitants of the place, a tale of hidden treasure is sure to be appended. Now Mickleen was a " small " farmer, and a very neglectful one. He was too much of a dreamer to be otherwise. He had gloated over the tales of treasure-troves, which were...
Сторінка 66 - Yes, there surely was, as my eye glanced over the scene — there was my ci-devant friend, Burnthe-Wind, as big and as burly as ever. There he stood, at the old corner, with his old fustian jacket, and a great bar of iron in his hand ; just as he was years ago, holding forth on the advantages of total abstinence. He had kept steady to the cause ; he had faltered not ; when all deserted the standard, he stood by it. Honest Jackl your faults may be many.