Poems by Thomas Osborne Davis

Sorted by title, showing title and first line

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Air--Blind Mary.
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Air--Viva la.
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Shall they bury me in the deep,
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Air--The Piper of Blessington.
Lines To Hogan.
Air--The Swaggering Jig.
Air--The Protestant Boys.
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Air--Contented I am.
His kiss is sweet, his word is kind,
Air--An Cota Caol.
Why rings the knell of the funeral bell from a hundred village shrines?
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Air--Irish Molly O!
Air--Grádh mo chroidhe.
Air--The Wheelwright.
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The summer sun is falling soft on Carbery’s hundred isles,
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From Milan to Cremona Duke Villeroy rode,
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Come in the evening, or come in the morning;
Air--The Brink of the White Rocks.
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