Curran and His Contemporaries

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Harper & brothers, 1862 - 451 pages
 

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Page 12 - When I remember all The friends so linked together, I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather; I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed...
Page 288 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Page 288 - ... lived for his love, for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him ; Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him. Oh ! make her a grave where the sunbeams rest When they promise a glorious morrow ; They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the West, From her own loved island of sorrow.
Page 276 - I have always understood it to be the duty of a judge, when a prisoner has been convicted, to pronounce the sentence of the law; I have also understood that judges sometimes think it their duty to hear with patience and to speak with humanity...
Page 184 - ... the wretch that is buried a man, lies till his heart has time to fester and dissolve, and is then dug up a witness.
Page 269 - I in the most express terms deny the competency of parliament to do this act — I warn you, do not dare to lay your hand on the Constitution. I tell you that if, circumstanced as you are, you pass this act, it will be a nullity, and that no man in Ireland will be bound to obey it.
Page 282 - 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.
Page 178 - In vain for him the officious wife prepares The fire fair-blazing, and the vestment warm, In vain his little children, peeping out Into the mingling storm, demand their sire, With tears of artless innocence. Alas ! Nor wife, nor children, more shall he behold, Nor friends, nor sacred home.
Page 44 - Talk not to me of peace ! Ireland is not in a state of peace : it is smothered war. England has sown her laws like dragons...
Page 278 - I have been charged with that importance, in the efforts to emancipate my country, as to be considered the keystone of the combination of Irishmen, or, as your lordship expressed it, "the life and blood of the conspiracy.

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