Identifier: danieloconnellre01dunl (find matches)
Title: Daniel O'Connell and the revival of national life in Ireland
Year: 1900 (1900s)
Authors: Dunlop, Robert. (from old catalog)
Subjects: O'Connell, Daniel, 1775-1847 Nationalism
Publisher: New York (etc.) G. P. Putnam's sons
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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mmending peace and unity, mutualforbearance and good will, was construed as a hope-ful token of a more liberal policy in the future ; andthat it might not remain a dead letter OConnellfounded a Loyal Union, or Royal Georgian Club in Dublin, for the express purpose of encouragingmutual forbearance and good will and perpetuatingthat affectionate gratitude towards his Majesty,King George the Fourth (whom God preserve), whichnow animates every Irish bosom. The societypledged itself to meet and dine together at least sixtimes a year, each member dressed in cloth of Irishmanufacture and in the colours worn by the citizensof Dublin on the auspicious day of his Majestyspublic entry into the city. Meanwhile a scornful world looked on and laughedat the sad spectacle, and Byron, in the name of com-mon sense and decency, lashed both OConnell andthe nation for their servility in scathing verse. Ere the daughter of Brunswick is cold in her grave.And her ashes still float to their home oer the tide.
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1822) The Kings Visit. 117 Lo ! George the Triumphant speeds over the waveTo the long-cherished isle, which he loved like his—bride. But he comes ! the Messiah of royalty comes !Like a goodly Leviathan rolled from the waves ;Then receive him as best such an advent becomes,With a legion of cooks and an army of slaves. He comes in the promise and bloom of three-score,To perform in the pageant the sovereigns part—But long live the shamrock which shadows him oer,Could the green in his hat be transferred to his heart! Could that long-withered spot but be verdant again,And a new spring of noble affections arise—Then might freedom forgive thee this dance in thychain,And this shout of thy slavery which saddens the skies. Is it madness, or meanness which clings to thee now?Were he God—as he is but the commonest clay.With scarce fewer wrinkles than sins on his brow—Such servile devotion might shame him away. Wear, Fingal, thy trapping ! OConnell, proclaim His accomplishments! His!! I

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