#Irish #XIXCentury
The Infinite always is silent: It is only the Finite speaks. Our words are the idle wave-caps On the deep that never breaks. We may question with wand of scien…
LOVE’S Herald flew o’er all the… Crying: ’ Love’s altar waits for sacrifice!’ And all folk answered, like a wave… With treasured offerings and gifts…
Nor gold, nor silver are the words… Nor rich-wrought chasing on design… But rugged relics of an unknown sp… Where fortune chanced I played on… Unthought of here the critic blame…
NATHAN BEANS and William Lam… Known from infancy to revel only i… Many a mother of Nantucket bristl… With a horrid skulking whistle, te… But for all maternal bristling lit…
“WHAT bait do you use," said a S… When you fish where the souls of m… “Well, for special tastes,” said t… “Gold and Fame are the best I’ve… “But for common use?” asked the S…
O THE rare spring flowers! take… Do not wait forsummer buds—they ma… Every sweet to-day sends, we are w… Roses bloom for pulling: the path…
THERE is an old tradition sacred… That says: 'Upon St. Martin’s Ev… No fishermen of Wexford shall, up… Set sail or cast a line within the… The tongue that framed the order,…
TWO youths from a village set out… To seek their fortune the wide wor… One cried, ‘Hurra for the autumn… The other sighed, ‘Winter is almo… One failed, they said, for he neve…
DEAR honored name, beloved for h… But loved and honored first that… In living proof to erring mortal e… That our poor earth is near akin t… Sweet word of dual meaning: one of…
Farewell! Oh how hard and how sad… That last word of parting’foreve… The fond ties and affection that c… From home and from friends and fro… ‘Though it grieves to remember, ’t…
O Beauteous Southland! Land of y… That hangeth o’ve thee slumbering,… The moveless foliage of thy valley… And wooded hills, like aureole of… Oh thou, discovered ere the fittin…
A NATION’S greatness lies in m… One master-mind is worth a million… No royal robes have marked the pla… But Samson-strength to burst the… The might of empire gives no crown…
PENAL COLONY OF WEST… THE sun rose o’er dark Fremantle… And the Sentry stood on the wall; Above him, with white lines swingi… The flag-staff, bare and tall:
“I am poor,” said Chunder Ali, wh… Frowned in supercilious anger at t… “I am friendless and a Hindoo: su… Here in China, where the Hindoo f… I have naught to buy your justice;…
THERE is no joy all set apart fr… The opening bud has loss as well a… The brightest dew-drop gems a bend… The rarest day has wept one little… But wholly blest the parting pain…