Songs of Ireland and Other Lands: Being a Collection of the Most Popular Irish, Sentimental and Comic SongsD. & J. Sadlier & Company, 1847 |
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Resultados 6-10 de 72
Página 55
... fall ; Where is the mother , that looked on my childhood ? And where is my bosom - friend , dearer than all ? Ah , my sad soul , long abandoned by pleasure , Why did it dote on a fast - fading treasure ? Tears , like the rain - drops ...
... fall ; Where is the mother , that looked on my childhood ? And where is my bosom - friend , dearer than all ? Ah , my sad soul , long abandoned by pleasure , Why did it dote on a fast - fading treasure ? Tears , like the rain - drops ...
Página 59
... fall ) There's a stone that contains all this blarney . Like a magnet , it influence such is , That attraction it gives all it touches ; If you kiss it , they say , That from that blessed day You may kiss whom you please , with your ...
... fall ) There's a stone that contains all this blarney . Like a magnet , it influence such is , That attraction it gives all it touches ; If you kiss it , they say , That from that blessed day You may kiss whom you please , with your ...
Página 62
... falling , Calling on the fairy King : " Why with spells my child caressing , Courting him with fairy joy ; Why destroy a mother's blessing , Wherefore steal my baby boy ? When a beautiful child pines and dies , the Irish peasant ...
... falling , Calling on the fairy King : " Why with spells my child caressing , Courting him with fairy joy ; Why destroy a mother's blessing , Wherefore steal my baby boy ? When a beautiful child pines and dies , the Irish peasant ...
Página 63
... falling all in vain ; He now sports with fairy pleasure , He's the treasure of their train ! " Fare thee well , my child , for ever , In this world I've lost my joy , But in the next we ne'er shall sever , There I'll find my angel boy ...
... falling all in vain ; He now sports with fairy pleasure , He's the treasure of their train ! " Fare thee well , my child , for ever , In this world I've lost my joy , But in the next we ne'er shall sever , There I'll find my angel boy ...
Página 80
... Fall round me deadly now- The smiles of Love no longer part Those dead blue lips of thine- I lay my hand upon thy heart , " Tis cold at last to mine . Were we beneath our native heaven , Within our native land-- A fairer grave to thee ...
... Fall round me deadly now- The smiles of Love no longer part Those dead blue lips of thine- I lay my hand upon thy heart , " Tis cold at last to mine . Were we beneath our native heaven , Within our native land-- A fairer grave to thee ...
Conteúdo
117 | |
119 | |
127 | |
131 | |
132 | |
137 | |
144 | |
160 | |
112 | |
113 | |
120 | |
121 | |
140 | |
145 | |
147 | |
151 | |
166 | |
174 | |
177 | |
182 | |
184 | |
186 | |
191 | |
193 | |
198 | |
202 | |
205 | |
208 | |
209 | |
225 | |
242 | |
243 | |
252 | |
262 | |
278 | |
307 | |
319 | |
9 | |
16 | |
19 | |
26 | |
33 | |
47 | |
54 | |
68 | |
69 | |
81 | |
99 | |
163 | |
168 | |
176 | |
184 | |
188 | |
212 | |
216 | |
229 | |
233 | |
235 | |
241 | |
243 | |
246 | |
250 | |
255 | |
258 | |
269 | |
271 | |
2 | |
15 | |
23 | |
28 | |
49 | |
53 | |
63 | |
70 | |
78 | |
105 | |
119 | |
129 | |
137 | |
138 | |
145 | |
147 | |
150 | |
200 | |
219 | |
230 | |
242 | |
263 | |
Termos e frases comuns
Annie Lisle Ballyporeen Barney O'Hea beautiful Ben Bolt bird blarney bless blooming bonnie boys brave bride bright Charlie charming cheer Colleen Bawn colleen dhas cruthin Constantinople cottage cruthin darling dream Dublin lasses e'er Erin Erin's eyes fair farewell Fermoy flowers friends Garnavilla GEORGE LINLEY girl God save Ireland gone green happy heart Highland hills hone Isle jaunting car Johnny Sands Kate Kathleen kiss Lady land lassie live lonely love thee lover maid maiden Malone Mary Mary Astore mavourneen merry minstrel boy Molly dear morning mother mountains ne'er never night Norah o'er Old Ireland Ould poor ral lal river Lee roam round SAMUEL LOVER shamrock Shan van Vocht shining shore shuile sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow star sure sweet tears tell there's thine thou thousand a-year true Twas voice wave wear weep wild young
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 15 - I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter! — Oh, my daughter!
Página 8 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Página 9 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Página 112 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha, for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him follow me!
Página 8 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Página 51 - He had 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.
Página 54 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Página 160 - ... flee, But I have no refuge from famine and danger, A home and a country remain not to me. Never again, in the green sunny bowers, Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours, .Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh...
Página 14 - The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. " O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Página 54 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the ramparts we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast...