John Locke

Th' an'am an Dhia, but there it is--
The dawn on the hills of Ireland.
God's angels read more

Th' an'am an Dhia, but there it is--
The dawn on the hills of Ireland.
God's angels lifting the night's black veil
From the fair sweet face of my sireland!
O Ireland, isn't it grand, you look
Like a bride in her rich adornin',
And with all the pent up love of my heart
I bid you the top of the morning.

Reading furnishes the mind only with materials for knowledge; it is thinking that makes what we read ours.

Reading furnishes the mind only with materials for knowledge; it is thinking that makes what we read ours.

O, love is the soul of a true Irishman;
He loves all that's lovely, loves all that he can,
read more

O, love is the soul of a true Irishman;
He loves all that's lovely, loves all that he can,
With his sprig of shillelagh and shamrock so green.

It is vain to find fault with those arts of deceiving, wherein
men find pleasure to be deceived.

It is vain to find fault with those arts of deceiving, wherein
men find pleasure to be deceived.

Good and evil, reward and punishment, are the only motives to a rational creature: these are the spur and reins read more

Good and evil, reward and punishment, are the only motives to a rational creature: these are the spur and reins whereby all mankind are set on work, and guided