#IrishWriters #XIXCentury
HOW did he live, this dead man he… With the temple above his grave? He lived as a great one, from crad… He was nursed in luxury, trained i… When the wish was born, it was gra…
THE world was made when a man was… He must taste for himself the forb… He can never take warning from old… He must fight as a boy, he must dr… He must kiss, he must love, he mus…
AY, smile as you will, with your… But I know the line Of your guard is as weak as a maze… You may give no sign— And the devil is never far to seek…
THERE is blood on the face of th… It reeks through the years, and is… Where Truth was slaughtered at bi… And the veins of Liberty bled. Lo! vain is the hand that tries
God send us peace, and keep red st… But should it come, God send us m… The land is dead that dare not fac… When foreign danger threats the co… Defenders strong are they that hom…
To toil all day and lie worn-out a… To rise for all the years to slave… And breed new broods to do no othe… In toiling, bearing, breeding—life… To myriad men, too base for man or…
IN the Spring we see: Then the buds are dear to us—immat… In the Summer we live: When bright eyes are near to us, o… In the Autumn we love:
‘TWAS a dismal winter’s evening,… But within, the cheerful fire cast… O’er our pleasant little parlor, t… There she sat beside the glowing g… And beyond, within the shadow, in…
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…
DEAD, with his harness on him: Rigid and cold and white, Marking the place of the vanguard Still in the ancient fight. The climber dead on the hill-side,
‘SHE is dead!’ they say; 'she is… Her mother has kissed her clay-col… Her blue eyes show through the wax… Her grave is dug, and its heap of… ‘She is dead!’ they say to the peo…
ONCE I had a little sweetheart In the land of the Malay,— Such a little yellow sweetheart! Warm and peerless as the day Of her own dear sunny island,
IS he well blessed who has no eye… The woeful things that shadow all… The latent brute behind the eyes o… The place and power gained and sta… The weakly victims driven to the w…
A LEGEND OF THE BUSH. MY tale which I have brought is o… Ere that fair Southern land was s… Brought thitherward in reeking shi… Like blight upon the coast, or lik…
WHAT song is best for the soldie… Take no heed of the words, nor cho… Let it burst out from the heart li… Natural, clear, resistless, leapin… Whether of love or hate or war or…
