File:Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern (1896) (14577917477).jpg

Identifier: worldsbestlitera28warn (find matches)
Title: Library of the world's best literature, ancient and modern
Year: 1896 (1890s)
Authors:
Subjects:
Publisher: N.Y.
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ill the yeomen do? Says the shan van vochtjWhat will the yeomen do ? Says the shan van vocht :What should the yeomen doBut throw off the red and blue,And swear that theyll be true To the shan ran vocht? Chorus What should the yeomen doBut throw off the red and blue,And swear that theyll be trueTo the shan van vocht? And what color will they wear ? Says the shan van vocht;What color will they wear ? Says the shan van vocht:What color should be seenWhere our fathers homes have been,But our own immortal Green ? Says the shan van vocht: Chorus What color should be seenWhere our fathers homes have been,But our own immortal Green ?Says the shan van vocht. And will Ireland then be free ? Says the shan van vocht;Will Ireland then be free ? Says the shan ran vocht:Yes! Ireland shall be free,From the centre to the sea;Then hurrah for Liberty! Says the shan van vocht. Chorus Yes! Ireland shall be free,From the centre to the seaThen hurrah for Liberty!Says the shan van vocht. Street Ballad, 1797.
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Under the sod and the dew,Under the other, the GrayHOLLYWOOD CEMETERY, MONUMENT TO THE CONFEDERATE DEAD (Richmond, Va.) H SONGS HYMNS AND LYRICS 16351 A DEATH-BED er suffering ended with the day, Yet lived she at its close;And breathed the long, long night away In statue-like repose. But when the sun, in all his state, Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through Glorys morning gate, And walked in Paradise! James Aldrich. ON A QUIET LIFE Small fields are mine; a small and guiltless rent:In both I prize the quiet of content.My mind maintains its peace, from feverish dreadSecure, and fear of crimes that sloth has bred.Others let toilsome camps or curule chairsInvite, and joys which vain ambition shares.May I, my lot among the people thrown,Live to myself, and call my time my own! Avienus. Translation of Charles Abraham Elton. B THE BLUE AND THE GRAY Y the flow of the inland river, Whence the fleets of iron have fled,Where the blades of the grave-grass quiver,Asleep are the ranks of the

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