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Updated: May 27, 2025
Here, too is an exquisite snatch on Memory: Fond Memory, like a mockingbird, Within the widow'd heart is heard, Repeating every touching tone Of voices that from earth hath gone. Queen Catharine's Sorrow is a ballad of mournful minstrelsy. Next is the Bard's Address to his youngest Daughter, by Mr. Hogg beginning Come to my arms, my dear wee pet! My gleesome, gentle Harriet!
It is doubtful whether even the professor himself could have cleared up the mystery of this deepened color in the immortal bard's nose.
His chief delights were reading, discussing political and religious questions, and gathering information in the department of the natural sciences. He associated a good deal with Dr. Bard, but he never accepted Bard's views of the Bible. He had continued with the old society from indisposition to disturb himself rather than from sympathy with its teachings, or regard for its interests.
Wherefore, when you are uttering some affecting sentiment to your intended dupe, think of the greatest misfortune you ever had in your life; habit will soon make the association of tears and that melancholy remembrance constantly felicitous. I knew, my dear pupils, a most intelligent Frenchman, who obtained a charming legacy from an old poet by repeating the bard's verses with streaming eyes.
Barbecue-Smith, and he squeezed Denis's arm encouragingly. "The Bard's is a noble calling." As soon as tea was over Mr. Barbecue-Smith excused himself; he had to do some writing before dinner. Priscilla quite understood. The prophet retired to his chamber. Mr. Barbecue-Smith came down to the drawing-room at ten to eight.
When in later years I saw a plaster cast of the head of Voltaire at the Cambridge Museum of Comparative Anatomy, I was impressed with the resemblance between Bard's head and that cast. His success as a physician was due probably to his ingenuity and keen powers of observation rather than to his learning. All his faculties were active, and he appreciated the importance of the laws of progress.
Pickle, diverted with this method of estimating an author according to the quantity of his works, inquired about the subjects of this bard's writings; but of these his brother could give no account, or other information, but that there was little market for the commodity, which hung heavy upon his hands, and induced him to wish he had applied himself to another trade.
And it seemed to Anthony that it was only a moment ago that the key turned in the lock of John Bard's secret room, the hidden chamber which he kept like Bluebeard for himself, where he went like Bluebeard to see his past; only an instant before he had turned the key in that lock, the door opened, and this was the scene which met his eyes the grave, the blurred tombstone, and the stern figure beyond.
Those writings of Guttun Owen's, which his Lordship allows were extant in the Days of Dr. Powel, were certainly known before Columbus's first Voyage; for the Doctor expressly says that he found the particulars concerning Madog's emigration noted by Guttun Owen, who wrote, in 1480: consequently this Bard's Writings were known to Dr. Powel.
Buck Mulligan wiped the razorblade neatly. Then, gazing over the handkerchief, he said: The bard's noserag! A new art colour for our Irish poets: snotgreen. You can almost taste it, can't you? He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly. God! he said quietly. Isn't the sea what Algy calls it: a great sweet mother? The snotgreen sea.
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