The Irish monthly magazine [afterw.] The Irish monthly, Volume 71879 |
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Page v
... Night at Rajghur . By C. C. L. , late Royal Artillery , The Song of the Pear - Tree . From the French of Paul Féval , The Strange Adventures of Little Snowdrop . By Clara Mulholland , Chapter Two Sunsets . I. A Birthday Party ,! II ...
... Night at Rajghur . By C. C. L. , late Royal Artillery , The Song of the Pear - Tree . From the French of Paul Féval , The Strange Adventures of Little Snowdrop . By Clara Mulholland , Chapter Two Sunsets . I. A Birthday Party ,! II ...
Page 8
... night ? Why should she imagine that we have always been well - fed and pampered ? If she is come here to stay , let her know the worst at once . If she has come here , hoping to suc- ceed in time to Miss Carnduff's money , and cheat us ...
... night ? Why should she imagine that we have always been well - fed and pampered ? If she is come here to stay , let her know the worst at once . If she has come here , hoping to suc- ceed in time to Miss Carnduff's money , and cheat us ...
Page 9
... night . [ Exit . MILDRED ( weeping ) .- Poor Fan ! she always looks at the black side of everything , so pray don't mind her . I am not a bit miserable here , and yet I have always been treated just has she has been . SHEILA ( sadly ) ...
... night . [ Exit . MILDRED ( weeping ) .- Poor Fan ! she always looks at the black side of everything , so pray don't mind her . I am not a bit miserable here , and yet I have always been treated just has she has been . SHEILA ( sadly ) ...
Page 14
... night , and well doth the legend say that neither he nor his little canoe will ever again be seen by human eye , for no frail barque could long drift on these treacherous waves . We were now really at sea , no land being visible from ...
... night , and well doth the legend say that neither he nor his little canoe will ever again be seen by human eye , for no frail barque could long drift on these treacherous waves . We were now really at sea , no land being visible from ...
Page 20
... night had been blustry , a gale had been blowing , and we were just enjoying the residuum of it . After the storm would come a calm , and we were going to have a fine day , & c .; so on we went . Yes , on we went , past Howth , and its ...
... night had been blustry , a gale had been blowing , and we were just enjoying the residuum of it . After the storm would come a calm , and we were going to have a fine day , & c .; so on we went . Yes , on we went , past Howth , and its ...
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Common terms and phrases
50 UPPER SACKVILLE BAILIE'S PHOSPHATED EXTRACT beautiful Bishop blessed Bottles Carnduff Castle Catholic Charles Charles Gavan Duffy Church cloth colours Congal Convent cried darling dear Dermot Dublin Edition Extract of Meat eyes F. C. Burnand faith Father Fcap friends Fursey girl give grace hand heart HODGES & SONS Holy honour Ireland IRISH MONTHLY Jack Hazlitt James Britten Jesus Kienzl King Lady Liebig's Extract London look Lord M. H. GILL MAGUIRE Malt Wine mamma Mary MATER INFIRMORUM HOSPITAL Meat and Malt Mildred Miss monastery mother MUSIC never O'Connell O'Connor papa Patrick Patrick's Purgatory poem poet poor prayers Price 28 published Quartett readers Rosa Mulholland round sacred saint Salutaris Hostia Sanitary SHEILA Sisters Sisters of Mercy Snowdrop Stein sure Tantum Ergo thou thought UPPER SACKVILLE write young
Popular passages
Page 176 - But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.
Page 397 - I WALKED through Ballinderry in the Spring-time, When the bud was on the tree ; And I said, in every fresh-ploughed field beholding The sowers striding free, Scattering broad-cast forth the corn in golden plenty On the quick seed-clasping soil, Even such, this day, among the fresh-stirred hearts of Erin, Thomas Davis, is thy toil...
Page 380 - The maidens' trance dissolveth so. Then fly the ghastly three as swiftly as they may, And tell their tale of sorrow to anxious friends in vain — They pined away and died within the year and day, And ne'er was Anna Grace seen again.
Page 216 - There is honey in the trees where her misty vales expand, And her forest paths in summer are by falling waters fanned ; There is dew at high noontide there, and springs i' the yellow sand, On the fair hills of holy Ireland.
Page 131 - These sublime ideas of his, terrible and beautiful, are the fruit of the Christian Meditation of all the good men who had gone before him. Precious they ; but also is not he precious ? Much, had not he spoken, would have been dumb ; not dead, yet living voiceless.
Page 358 - It must be remembered, that this great style itself is artificial in the highest degree ; it presupposes in the spectator, a cultivated and prepared artificial state of mind. It is an absurdity, therefore, to suppose that we are born with this taste, though we are with the seeds of it, which, by the heat and kindly influence of his genius, may be ripened in us.
Page 232 - Red glebe and meadow-margin green, commingling to the view With yellow stubble, browning woods, and upland tracts of blue ; — Then, sated with the pomp of fields, turns, seaward, to the verge Where, mingling with the murmuring wash made by the far-down surge, Comes up the clangorous song of birds unseen, that, low beneath, Poised off the rock, ply underfoot ; and, 'mid the blossoming heath. And mint-sweet herb that loves the ledge rare-aired, at ease reclined Surveys the wide pale-heaving floor...
Page 398 - Young husbandman of Erin's fruitful seed-time, In the fresh track of danger's plough ! Who will walk the heavy, toilsome, perilous furrow Girt with freedom's seed-sheets now ? Who will banish with the wholesome crop of knowledge The flaunting weed and the bitter thorn, Now that thou thyself art but a seed for hopeful planting Against the resurrection morn ? Young salmon of the...
Page 131 - Commedia is of Dante's writing; yet in truth it belongs to ten Christian centuries, only the finishing of it is Dante's. So always. The craftsman there, the smith with that metal of his, with these tools, with these cunning methods, — how little of all he does is properly his work ! All past inventive men work there with him; — as indeed with all of us, in all things.
Page 223 - The Princess with her women-train without the fort he found, Beside a limpid running stream, upon the primrose ground, In two ranks seated opposite, with soft alternate stroke Of bare, white, counter-thrusting feet, fulling a splendid cloak Fresh from the loom : incessant rolled athwart the fluted board The thick web fretted, while two maids, with arms uplifted, poured Pure water on it diligently ; and to their moving feet In answering verse they sang a chaunt of cadence clear and sweet. Princess...