Ireland's Welcome to the Stranger, Or, Excursions Through Ireland in 1844 & 1845 for the Purpose of Personally Investigating the Condition of the Poor

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C. Gilpin, 1847 - Ireland - 442 pages

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Page 253 - And immediately the angel of the Lord smote him, because he gave not God the glory: and he was eaten of worms, and gave up the ghost.
Page 65 - The day's disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; Full well the busy whisper, circling round, Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd...
Page 165 - To his own pleasures and his patron's pride : From such apostles, O ye mitred heads, Preserve the church ! and lay not careless hands On skulls that cannot teach, and will not learn.
Page 280 - To dwell in the cliffs of the valleys, In caves of the earth, and in the rocks. Among the bushes they brayed ; Under the nettles they were gathered together.
Page 49 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Page 2 - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies.
Page 53 - Twas there a vice, and seem'da madness here : Detesting that, and pitying this, he goes, Lost and confounded with the various shows. Now night's dim shades again involve the sky, Again the wanderers want a place to lie, Again they search, and find a lodging nigh : The soil improv'd around, the mansion neat, And neither poorly low, nor idly great : It seem'd to speak its master's turn of mind, Content, and not for praise, but virtue kind.
Page 48 - E'en children follow'd, with endearing wile, And pluck'd his gown, to share the good man's smile...
Page 198 - Cast thy bread upon the waters, and after many days thou shalt find it again.
Page 84 - It must be remembered that a sup of sweet milk among the poor in Ireland, is as much a rarity and a luxury as a slice of plum-pudding in a farm-house in America.

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