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The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 5. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Margaret Smith's Journal (search)
ry's brow, It is my darling's hair!” Oh then spake up the angry dame, ‘Get up, get up,’ quoth she, “I'll sell ye over Ireland, I'll sell ye o'er the sea!” She clipped her glossy hair away, That none her rank might know, She took away her gown osailed he, Until he came to Boston town, Across the great salt sea. “Oh have ye seen the young Kathleen, The flower of Ireland? Ye'll know her by her eyes so blue, And by her snow-white hand!” Out spake an ancient man, “I know The maiden whom yd, ” Shall sweet Kathleen be sold. We loved her in the place of one The Lord hath early ta'en; But since her heart's in Ireland, We give her back again! “ Oh for that same the saints in heaven For his poor soul shall pray, And Holy Mother wash with tears His heresies away. Sure now they dwell in Ireland, As you go up Claremore Ye'll see their castle looking down The pleasant Galway shore. And the old lord's wife is dead and gone, And a happy man is he, For he sits beside his o
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 5. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Tales and Sketches (search)
retches beneath him its dark, still mirror; he sees the same evening sunshine rest upon and hallow alike with Nature's blessing the ruins of the Seven Churches of Ireland's apostolic age, the broken mound of the Druids, and the round towers of the Phoenician sun-worshippers; pleasant and mournful recollections of his home waken wit harmonies. God bless the temperance movement! And He will bless it; for it is His work. It is one of the great miracles of our times. Not Father Mathew in Ireland, nor Hawkins and his little band in Baltimore, but He whose care is over all the works of His hand, and who in His divine love and compassion turneth the hearts o a very melancholy and disconsolate way, looking regretfully back to their green turf dances, moonlight revels, and cheerful nestling around the shealing fires of Ireland. The last that has been heard of them was some forty or fifty years ago in a tavern house in S——, New Hampshire. The landlord was a spiteful little man, whose