Legends of mount Leinster, by Harry Whitney

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H. Whitney, 1855 - Folk literature, Irish - 283 pages

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Page 232 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.
Page 133 - The loyal townsmen gave their assistance ; We'll die or conquer they all did say : The yeomen cavalry made no resistance, For on the pavement their corpses lay. When Enniscorthy became subject to him, 'Twas then to Wexford we marched our men, And on the Three Rocks...
Page 133 - Gorey we did repair, At Tubberneering we thought no harm, The bloody army was waiting there, The issue of it was a close engagement, While on the soldiers we played warlike pranks ; Thro' sheepwalks, hedgerows and shady thickets, There were mangled bodies and broken ranks, The shuddering cavalry I can't forget them ; We raised the brushes on their helmets straight — They turned about, and they bid for Dublin, As if they ran for a ten/pound plate.

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