Irish Monthly Magazine, Volume 26

Front Cover
1898
 

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 553 - Oh, bloodiest picture in the book of Time, Sarmatia fell unwept without a crime — Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe. Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear, Closed her bright eye and curbed her high career. Hope for a season bade the world farewell And Freedom shrieked as Kosciusko fell.
Page 66 - Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, That I may pour my spirits in thine ear ; And chastise with the valour of my tongue All that impedes thee from the golden round, Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem To have thee crown'd withal.
Page 90 - Love had he found in huts where poor Men lie, His daily Teachers had been Woods and Rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills. In him the savage Virtue of the Race, Revenge, and all ferocious thoughts were dead : Nor did he change ; but kept in lofty place The wisdom which adversity had bred. Glad were the Vales, and every cottage hearth ; The Shepherd Lord was honoured more and more: And, ages after he was laid in earth, " The Good Lord Clifford
Page 71 - I have given suck, and know How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.
Page 61 - Fair is foul, and foul is fair; Hover through the fog and filthy air.
Page 63 - I am thane of Cawdor : If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, Against the use of nature...
Page 70 - Was the hope drunk, Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since, And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard...
Page 70 - Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, Not cast aside so soon. Lady M. Was the hope drunk Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since, And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time Such I account thy love. Art thou...
Page 63 - If good, why do I yield to that suggestion Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair, And make my seated heart knock at my ribs Against the use of nature? Present fears Are less than horrible imaginings: My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, Shakes so my single state of man, that function Is smother'd in surmise : and nothing is, But what is not.
Page 324 - ART thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers ? O sweet content ! Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed ? O punishment ! Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed To add to golden numbers, golden numbers...

Bibliographic information