“
Stony seaboard, far and foreign, The last of Europe's stone age race.
— Ireland
Stony seaboard, far and foreign, The last of Europe's stone age race.
Ireland would not turn into a Marxist country, for all their wishes. The list of such nations was very thin now, though across the world academics still clung to the words and ideas of Marx and Engles and even Lenin. Fools.
For the great Gaels of IrelandAnd all their songs are sad.
Thus you have a starving population, an absentee aristocracy, and an alien Church, and in addition the weakest executive in the world. That is the Irish Question.
We are bound to lose Ireland in consequence of years of cruelty, stupidity and misgovernment and I would rather lose her as a friend than a foe.
Ireland is the old sow that eats her farrow.
In Ireland the inevitable never happens and the unexpected constantly occurs.
I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand,For they're hanging men and women for the Wearin' o' the Green.
Gladstone…spent his declining years trying to guess the answer to the Irish Question; unfortunately, whenever he was getting warm, the Irish secretly changed the question.
German Bismarck said that the solution of the Irish question lay in having the Irish to swap countries with the Dutch. He added that the Dutch would make Ireland the most beautiful island in the world while the Irish would neglect to mend the dykes left to them by the Dutch and therefore would be drowned.
The moment the very name of Ireland is mentioned, the English seem to bid adieu to common feeling, common prudence, and to common sense, and to act with the barbarity of tyrants, and the fatuity of idiots.
There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.
There's a dear little plant that grows in our isle,The sweet little, green little, shamrock of Ireland!
Dear Erin, how sweetly thy green bosom rises! Thou queen of the west, the world's cushla ma chree.
When Erin first rose from the dark-swelling flood,In the ring of this world, the most precious stone.
Arm of Erin, prove strong, but be gentle as brave,The cause or the men of the Emerald Isle.
Every Irishman has a potatoe in his head.
The dust of some is Irish earth, Among their own they rest.
Old Dublin City there is no doubtin' And hatin' each other for the Love of God.
Th' an'am an Dhia, but there it is— I bid you the top of the morning.
The groves of Blarney Of sweet, silent brooks.
There is a stone there, Of Parliament.
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;But till that day, plaze God, I'll stick to wearin' o' the Green.
For dear is the Emerald Isle of the ocean, Tho' joyous, are sober—tho' peaceful, are brave.
O, love is the soul of a true Irishman;With his sprig of shillelagh and shamrock so green.
Whether on the scaffold highOh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall.
A very old author discoursing upon Irishmen, says, " Where Irishmen are good, it is impossible to find better, where they are bad, it is impossible to find worse." I am afraid we have got to this alternative. Treachery was never the character of Irishmen. Courage and intrepidity were their characteristics. Every creature is taught to fight, but boldly and fairly.
God and nature have joined England and Ireland together. It is impossible to separate them.
The common law of England is the common law of Ireland, where the latter is not altered by statute.
Decisions of the Irish Courts, though entitled to the highest respect. are not binding on English Judges.
