The Irish Monthly, 17 tomasMcGlashan & Gill, 1889 |
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Aengus Aghadoe artist aunt beautiful better Bishop blue bright Burke Burns and Oates Catholic chiaroscuro Clonenagh colour cried Culdee dark dear death Denis Florence MacCarthy door Dublin eyes face Father Daly Frances girl give hand heart heaven holy Ireland IRISH MONTHLY Jean Katie laugh light living look Lord M'sieu le baron Mackenzie Madame de Treilles mademoiselle Mary mind Miss O'Neill Molly Molly's mother nature Nature's never O'Carroll o'er old lady once paint picture poem poet poor prayer priest Raoul readers returned rondeau round Ruy Blas saints Samuel Ferguson Sauvigny shadow sister Sisters of Mercy smile song sonnet story sunshine sure sweet Tallaght tell tercets thee things thou thought tone translation trees truth turned verse villanelle volume W. B. Yeats woman words young
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14 psl. - And she brought forth her first-born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
106 psl. - If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering: for he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind, and tossed.
303 psl. - It is a strange thing how little, in general, people know about the sky. It is the part of creation in which nature has done more for the sake of pleasing man — more for the sole and evident purpose of talking to him, and teaching him, than in any other of her works ; and it is just the part in which we least attend to her.
524 psl. - Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home...
104 psl. - And hope confoundeth not : because the charity of God is poured forth in our hearts, by the Holy Ghost, who is given to us.
480 psl. - Infinite toil would not enable you to sweep away a mist ; but, by ascending a little, you may often look over it altogether. So it is with our moral improvement: we wrestle fiercely with a vicious habit, which would have no hold upon us if we ascended into a higher moral atmosphere.
281 psl. - Treat people as if they were what they ought to be, and you help them to become what they are capable of being.
303 psl. - And instead of this, there is not a moment of any day of our lives, when nature is not producing scene after scene, picture after picture, glory after glory, and working still upon such exquisite and constant principles of the most perfect beauty, that it is quite certa n it is all done for us, and intended for our perpetual pleasure.
524 psl. - Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home, Home, sweet, sweet Home! There's no place like Home!
368 psl. - It were sad to gaze on the blessed and no man I loved of old there ; I throw down the chain of small stones ! when life in my body has ceased, I will go to Caoilte, and Conan, and Bran, Sceolan, Lomair, And dwell in the house of the Fenians, be they in flames or at feast.