Uncle Horace, by the author of 'Sketches of Irish character'.


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Seite 141 - It is a beauteous evening, calm and free, The holy time is quiet as a Nun Breathless with adoration; the broad sun Is sinking down in its tranquillity; The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea: Listen!
Seite 189 - But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime ; An age that melts with unperceiv'd decay, And glides in modest innocence away; Whose peaceful day Benevolence endears, Whose night congratulating Conscience cheers; The gen'ral fav'rite as the gen'ral friend: Such age there is, and who shall wish its end? Yet ev'n on this her load Misfortune flings, To press the weary minutes...
Seite 174 - They sin who tell us Love can die, With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth...
Seite 208 - Then, why, my soul, dost thou complain ? Why drooping seek the dark recess ? Shake off the melancholy chain, For God created all to bless. But ah ! my breast is human still ; The rising sigh, the falling tear, My languid vitals' feeble rill, The sickness of my soul declare.
Seite 198 - ... the sky, Treading its depths in the power of her might, And turning the clouds as they pass her to light ! Look to the waters : asleep on their breast, Seems not the ship like an island of rest ? Bright and alone on the shadowy main, Like a heart-cherished home on some desolate plain.
Seite 299 - I stayed, forgive the crime, — Unheeded flew the hours; How noiseless falls the foot of Time That only treads on flowers!
Seite 92 - "Stop, Mr. Finn; stop. Do not say to me any unkind word that I have not deserved, and that would make a breach between us.
Seite 131 - Be full, ye courts; be great, who will; Search for Peace with all your skill. Open wide the lofty door ; Seek her on the marble floor; In vain you search : she is not there ; In vain ye search the domes of Care.
Seite 87 - Despite all that has been, or ever will be said of its fragility, its danger, its destruction, — it is a blessed thing to look upon, and live amongst. Talk of its fading ! — it never fades : it is but transferred from face to face. The bud comes forth as the blossom is perfected, and the bud bursts into blossom but to hide the falling leaves, fragrant amid the decay of the parent flower ! Then the beauties of our country are so varied. The peasant girl, gifted with pearl-like modesty — and...
Seite 112 - Pleasure must be dash'd with pain: And yet , with heedless haste, The thirsty boy repeats the taste, Nor hearkens to despair, but tries the bowl again. The rills of pleasure never run sincere: Earth has no unpolluted spring, From the curs'd soil some dangerous taint they bear; So roses grow on thorns, and honey wears a sting.

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