Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition
Background details and bibliographic information
My Grave
Author: Thomas Osborne Davis
File Description
T. W. RollestonElectronic edition compiled and proof corrections by Beatrix Färber
1. First draft, revised and corrected.
Extent of text:
775 words
Publication
CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts: a project of University College Cork
College Road, Cork, Irelandhttp://www.ucc.ie/celt (2011) Distributed by CELT online at University College, Cork, Ireland.
Text ID Number: E850004-010
Availability [RESTRICTED]
Available with prior consent of the CELT programme for purposes of academic research and teaching only.
Sources
Source- First published in the Nation.
Other writings by Thomas Davis- Thomas Davis, Essays Literary and Historical, ed. by D. J. O'Donoghue, Dundalk 1914.
- Sir Charles Gavan Duffy (ed.), Thomas Davis, the memoirs of an Irish patriot, 1840-1846. 1890. [Reprinted entitled 'Thomas Davis' with an introduction of Brendan Clifford. Millstreet, Aubane Historical Society, 2000.]
- Thomas Davis: selections from his prose and poetry. [Edited] with an introduction by T. W. Rolleston. London and Leipzig: T. Fisher Unwin (Every Irishman's Library). 1910. [Published in Dublin by the Talbot press, 1914.]
- Thomas Osborne Davis, Literary and historical essays 1846. Reprinted 1998, Washington, DC: Woodstock Books.
- Essays of Thomas Davis. New York, Lemma Pub. Corp. 1974, 1914 [Reprint of the 1914 ed. published by W. Tempest, Dundalk, Ireland, under the title 'Essays literary and historical'.]
- Thomas Davis: essays and poems, with a centenary memoir, 1845-1945. Dublin, M.H. Gill and Son, 1945. [Foreword by an Taoiseach, Éamon de Valera.]
- Angela Clifford, Godless colleges and mixed education in Ireland: extracts from speeches and writings of Thomas Wyse, Daniel O'Connell, Thomas Davis, Charles Gavan Duffy, Frank Hugh O'Donnell and others. Belfast: Athol, 1992.
Thomas Osborne Davis My Grave in , Ed. T. W. Rolleston Thomas Davis: Selections from his prose and poetry. The Talbot Press, Dublin and London, ([1910]) page 367
Encoding
Project Description
CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts
Editorial Declaration
Correction
Text has been proof-read twice and parsed.
Normalization
The electronic text represents the edited text.
Quotation
Direct speech is tagged q.
Hyphenation
Soft hyphens are silently removed. When a hyphenated word (and subsequent punctuation mark) crosses a page-break, this break is marked after the completion of the word (and punctuation mark).
Segmentation
div0=the poem. Page-breaks are marked pb n="".
Standard Values
Dates are standardized in the ISO form yyyy-mm-dd.
Interpretation
Names of persons, places or organisations are not tagged.
Profile Description
Created: by Thomas Davis
(1840s)
Use of language
Language: [EN] The text is in English.
Revision History
- (2011-08-08)
Beatrix Färber (ed.)
- File parsed. SGML and HTML files created.
- (2011-08-07)
Beatrix Färber (ed.)
- File proofed (2), structural and content markup applied; header created.
- (2009)
Beatrix Färber (ed.)
- File proofed (1).
- (1996)
Audrey Murphy (ed.)
- Text captured by scanning.
Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E850004-010
My Grave: Author: Thomas Osborne Davis
p.367
- Shall they bury me in the deep,
Where wind-forgetting waters sleep?
Shall they dig a grave for me,
Under the green-wood tree?
Or on the wild heath,
Where the wilder breath
Of the storm doth blow?
Oh, no! oh, no!
- Shall they bury me in the Palace Tombs,
Or under the sahde of Cathedral domes?
Sweet 'twere to lie on Italy's shore;
Yet not therenor in Greece, though I love it more,
In the wolf or the vulture my grave shall I find?
Shall my ashes career on the world-seeing wind?
Shall they fling my corpse in the battle mound,
where coffinless thousands lie under the ground?
Just as the fall and are buried so
Oh, no! oh, no!
- No! on an Irish green hill-side,
On an opening lawnbut not too wide;
For I love the drip of the wetted trees
I love not the gales, but a gentle breeze,
To freshen the turfput no tombstone there,
But green sods, decked with daisies fair;
Nor sods too deep, but so that the dew,
The matted grass roots may trickle through.
Be my epitaph writ on my country's mind,
He served his country, and loved his kind.
- Oh! 'twere merry unto the grave to go,
If one were sure to be buried so.