Changing Ireland: Literary Backgrounds of the Irish Free State, 1889-1922Harvard University Press, 1924 - 259 pages No detailed description available for "Changing Ireland". |
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Page 91
... song that drifts upon the wind I shall not hear ; Nor shall the rosy shoots to eyes grown blind Again appear . I shall arise , and like a shooting star Slip from my place ; So lingering see the old world from afar Revolve in space . And ...
... song that drifts upon the wind I shall not hear ; Nor shall the rosy shoots to eyes grown blind Again appear . I shall arise , and like a shooting star Slip from my place ; So lingering see the old world from afar Revolve in space . And ...
Page 97
... song no hush . Red admirals fly about me , wing on wing , And love - lies - bleeding for my garland grows With spicy southernwood and gipsy - rose.2 The peasant of modern Ireland , ignorant of book- learning but sensitive to natural ...
... song no hush . Red admirals fly about me , wing on wing , And love - lies - bleeding for my garland grows With spicy southernwood and gipsy - rose.2 The peasant of modern Ireland , ignorant of book- learning but sensitive to natural ...
Page 107
... SONG O men from the fields ! Come gently within . Tread softly , softly , O ! men coming in . Mavourneen is going From me and from you , Where Mary will fold him . With mantle of blue ! From reek of the smoke And cold of the floor , And ...
... SONG O men from the fields ! Come gently within . Tread softly , softly , O ! men coming in . Mavourneen is going From me and from you , Where Mary will fold him . With mantle of blue ! From reek of the smoke And cold of the floor , And ...
Page 108
... Songs of the Dead End , which deal with his early ex- periences . Two years later he attained prominence with the publication of a realistic novel , Children of the Dead End . His service in the World War re- sulted in Soldier Songs , a ...
... Songs of the Dead End , which deal with his early ex- periences . Two years later he attained prominence with the publication of a realistic novel , Children of the Dead End . His service in the World War re- sulted in Soldier Songs , a ...
Page 109
... song . I passed a crooked , stunted man . He smudged me with his black tea - can . I said , as down my brows I drew , I will not make a song on you . I'll sing of hills , clouds , flowers , and wings , Of beautiful and distant things ...
... song . I passed a crooked , stunted man . He smudged me with his black tea - can . I said , as down my brows I drew , I will not make a song on you . I'll sing of hills , clouds , flowers , and wings , Of beautiful and distant things ...
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Changing Ireland: Literary Backgrounds of the Irish Free State, 1889-1922 Norreys Jephson O'Conor No preview available - 2012 |
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ballad beauty Celtic century chariot Christ Conall Cuchulain death Deirdre dream Dublin early Irish English Fairy Fenian fight Fraech Francis Ledwidge Gaelic League Gaelic literature Gaelic past GEOG give gods gold Graves green Gwynn heart heritage hills Home Rule Ibid imagination Irish history Irish literary Irish literary revival Irish literature Irish nationality Irish past Irish politics Irish problem Irish question Irish writers Irishmen King Lady Gregory land legends literary revival London Lord Dunsany magic Miss Letts Nationalist natural O'Grady Oisin Padraic Padraic Pearse play poems poet poetry Professor prose published reader Rebellion Redmond's rhyme Robinson Rolleston Ros geal dubh sagas Saint Patrick says scholars Shee Sinn Fein Sinn Feiners Songs spirit Stephens stories Synge T. M. Kettle Thomas Davis Thomas MacDonagh thou tion to-day tradition translations Ulster verse volume W. B. Yeats wherein wind women writing Yeats young
Popular passages
Page 75 - HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Page 78 - The first time on this shore, The bell-beat of their wings above my head, Trod with a lighter tread. Unwearied still, lover by lover, They paddle in the cold Companionable streams or climb the air; Their hearts have not grown old; Passion or conquest, wander where they will, Attend upon them still.
Page 26 - I arise today Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, Through belief in the threeness, Through confession of the oneness Of the Creator of Creation.
Page 77 - THE trees are in their autumn beauty, The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the water Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the stones Are nine-and-fifty swans. The nineteenth autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter wheeling in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings. I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed...
Page 24 - Magic is just the word for it,- — the magic of nature; not merely the beauty of nature, — that the Greeks and Latins had; not merely an honest smack of the soil, a faithful realism, — that the Germans had; but the intimate life of Nature, her weird power and her fairy charm.
Page 136 - I saw the spires of Oxford As I was passing by, The gray spires of Oxford Against a pearl-gray sky, My heart was with the Oxford men Who went abroad to die.
Page 100 - Be green upon their graves, O happy Spring, For they were young and eager who are dead ; Of all things that are young and quivering With eager life be they remembered: They move not here, they have gone to the clay, They cannot die again for liberty; Be they remembered of their land for aye; Green be their graves and green their memory. " Fragrance and beauty come in with the green, The ragged bushes put on sweet attire, The birds forget how chill these airs have been, The clouds bloom out again...
Page 116 - BEHIND THE CLOSED EYE I WALK the old frequented ways That wind around the tangled braes, I live again the sunny days Ere I the city knew. And scenes of old again are born, The woodbine lassoing the thorn, And drooping Ruth-like in the corn The poppies weep the dew. Above me in their hundred schools The magpies bend their young to rules, And like an apron full of jewels The dewy cobweb swings.
Page 73 - If they had something else to write about besides political opinions, if more of them would write about the beliefs of the people like Allingham, or about old legends like Ferguson, they would find it easier to get a style.' Then with a deliberateness that still surprises me, for in my heart of hearts I have never been quite certain that one should be more than an artist, that even patriotism is more than an impure desire in an artist...
Page 137 - They left the peaceful river, The cricket field, the quad, The shaven lawns of Oxford To seek a bloody sod. They gave their merry youth away For country and for God. God rest you, happy gentlemen, Who laid your good lives down, Who took the khaki and the gun Instead of cap and gown. God bring you to a fairer place Than even Oxford town.