The Irish Monthly, Volym 18McGlashan & Gill, 1890 |
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Anne Dane asked beautiful Bishop Blake bless Brother Azarias Burns and Oates Catholic Catholic Truth Society Château de Sales child Church Cornelius O'Callaghan cried darling dear dearest death door Dora Dora's Dublin eyes face Father feel Francis girl give glory Grace grandpapa hand happy head heard heart Heaven holy hope Ireland Irish Jesuit KINGSCOURT kissed knew Lady Ashfield letter Limerick lips live London looked Lord Ashfield Madge Mary Michael Blake mind Molly mother Neil never Newry night O'Neill Paul perhaps poor pray prayer present priest round saints seemed Sir Eustace sister Sisters of Mercy smiling sorrow soul story strange Street Summerlands sure sweet Sylvia Atherstone tell things thou thought told turned Violet Hill voice wish woman wonder words young Yves
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Sida 601 - And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.
Sida 295 - To earth, this weary earth, ye bring us, To guilt ye let us heedless go, Then leave repentance fierce to wring us: A moment's guilt, an age of woe!
Sida 296 - Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Sida 477 - For winter is now past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers have appeared in our land, the time of pruning is come, the voice of the turtle is heard in our land : the fig-tree hath put forth her green figs, the vines in flower yield their sweet smell. Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come.
Sida 99 - Unto this last as unto thee ; and when, for earth's severed multitudes of the wicked and the weary, there shall be holier reconciliation than that of the narrow home, and calm economy, where the Wicked cease — not from trouble, but from troubling — and the Weary are at rest.
Sida 258 - And has he left his birds and flowers? And must I call in vain? And through the long, long summer hours Will he not come again? And by the brook, and in the glade, Are all our wanderings o'er? Oh, while my brother with me played, Would I had loved him more.
Sida 654 - May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace — Amen!
Sida 357 - They only the victory win Who have fought the good fight, and have vanquished the demon that tempts us...
Sida 357 - I sing the hymn of the conquered, who fell in the Battle of Life — The hymn of the wounded, the beaten, who died overwhelmed in the strife...
Sida 367 - My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are...