Irish Minstrelsy, Or, Bardic Remains of Ireland; With English Poetical Translations Volume 2

Irish Minstrelsy, Or, Bardic Remains of Ireland; With English Poetical Translations Volume 2

By (author) 

List price: US$19.98

Currently unavailable

Add to wishlist

AbeBooks may have this title (opens in new window).

Try AbeBooks


This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1831 edition. Excerpt: ... by friendship strong; And ye Dundargveis' happy lands,7 Ye festive halls--ye sons of song; Ye generous friends in Meath who dwell, Beloved, adored, farewell, farewell! PATRICK HEALY'S WISHES.i BY JOHN D'ALTON. Ob! could I acquire my fullest desire, To mould my own life, were it given; 1 would be like the sage, who in happy old age, Disowns every link--but with heaven. An acre or two, as my wants would be few, Could supply quite enough for my welfare; In that scope I would deem my power supreme, And acknowledge no king but--myself there. The soil of this spot, the best to be got, Should furnish me fruit--and a choice store; Be sheltered and warm from rain and from storm, And favoured with sun-shine and moisture. My home should abound, and my table be crowned With comfort, but not ostentation; The music of mirth should hum round my hearth, And books be my night's recreation. Delightful retreat, in simplicity sweet! A wood and a streamlet should bound it; And the birds when I wake, from each bower and brake, Should pour their wild melodies round it. This streamlet midst flowers, and murmuring bowers, In the shade of rich fruits should meander; While the brisk finny race, o'er its sun-shiny face, Should leap--flit--and sportively wander. These joys--yet one more might enliven my store, Redouble each comfort and pleasure; A wife, of such truth, such virtue and youth, That her smiles would be more than a treasure. Let nineteen, and no more, to my twenty-four, Be the scale of her years to a letter; Then a babe every Easter, I think wo'nt molest her, No--I warrant she'll like me the better. THE MOURNER'S SOLILOQUY IN THE RUINED ABBEY OF TIMOLEAGUE.i BY THOMAS FURLONG. Abroad one night in loneliness I stroll'd, Along the wave-worn beach my footpath lay; more

Product details

  • Paperback | 64 pages
  • 189 x 246 x 3mm | 132g
  • Miami Fl, United States
  • English
  • black & white illustrations
  • 1236522982
  • 9781236522986