Irish life [by I. Butt].

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Page 78 - O, woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 160 - Welcome to their roar ! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead ! Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed, And the rent canvas fluttering strew the gale, Still must I on ; for I am as a weed, Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.
Page 310 - As Rochefoucault his maxims drew From nature, I believe them true: They argue no corrupted mind In him; the fault is in mankind. This maxim more than all the rest Is thought too base for human breast: ' In all distresses of our friends, We first consult our private ends; While nature, kindly bent to ease us, Points out some circumstance to please us.
Page 258 - Oh, sweet's the cup that circles then To those we've left behind us ! And when, in other climes, we meet Some isle or vale enchanting, Where all looks...
Page 238 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear: Those days are gone but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
Page 238 - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers...
Page 168 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye ? No ! True, they may lay your proud despoilers low, But not for you will freedom's altars flame.
Page 299 - My tables, meet it is, I set it down, That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; At least, I am sure, it may be so in Denmark : [ Writing. So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word ; It is, Adieu, adieu ! remember me.

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