The Reliques of Father Prout, Late P.P. of Watergrasshill, in the County of Cork, Ireland, Volume 1James Fraser, 1836 |
Common terms and phrases
admiration Æneid ballad beautiful Bellew Béranger bien Blarney Blarney Castle Blarney stone Brennus C'est called celebrated chantez classic cœur Cork death Dieu dwell fair fait Father Prout favourite French gai troubadour genius George Knapp give gloire glorious glory grand Greek groves hath heart honour illustrious immortal Ireland Irish Italy Jesuits jeune jour king Lady land Lardner Latin learned Lent literature Lord Lord Byron lyre Malbrouck melody mind Moore muse native never noble Number o'er OLIVER YORKE Paris perusal philosophic poet poetry Prout Papers qu'il Quæ recollect Regent Street Roger Boscovich rois Roman Rome round SCOTT shew Sir Walter Songs of France soul sous spirit stone sweet tell thee thou thought tion Tom Moore Tommy tout towers troubadour Twas Vaucluse Vert-Vert Victor Hugo vulgar Watergrasshill waters writings young εν τε
Popular passages
Page 40 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Page 219 - Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds : Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Page 214 - Chiare, fresche e dolci acque, ove le belle membra pose colei che sola a me par donna; gentil ramo ove piacque (con sospir mi rimembra) a lei di fare al bel fianco colonna; erba e fior che la gonna leggiadra ricoverse co l'angelico seno; aere sacro sereno ove Amor co' begli occhi il cor m'aperse: date udìenzia insieme a le dolenti mie parole estreme.
Page 257 - With deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would In the days of childhood Fling round my cradle Their magic spells. On this I ponder Where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder Sweet Cork, of thee; With thy bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Page 182 - Or let my lamp at midnight hour Be seen in some high lonely tower...
Page 245 - For, oh, if there be an elysium on earth, It is this, it is this ! There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die ; One hour of a passion so sacred is worth Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss : And oh...
Page 69 - Good people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song, And if you find it wondrous short, It cannot hold you long. In Islington there was a man, Of whom the world might say, That still a godly race he ran, Whene'er he went to pray. A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes; The naked every day he clad, When he put on his clothes. And in that town a dog was found, As many dogs there be, Both mongrel...
Page 199 - He gave the little wealth he had, To build a house for fools and mad: And showed by one satiric touch, No nation wanted it so much: That kingdom he hath left his debtor, I wish it soon may have a better.
Page 96 - There is a stone there That whoever kisses, Oh ! he never misses To grow eloquent. 'Tis he may clamber To a lady's chamber, Or become a member Of Parliament: A clever spouter He'll sure to turn out, or An out-and-outer, "To be let alone.
Page 258 - THE BELLS OF SHANDON With deep affection and recollection I often think of those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, in the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle their magic spells. On this I ponder where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork, of thee; With thy bells of Shandon that sound so grand on The pleasant waters of the River Lee.