The Rival Collection of Prose and Poetry, for the Use of Schools, Colleges and Public ReadersJ. W. Schermerhorn & Company, 1872 - 504 pàgines |
Des de l'interior del llibre
Resultats 1 - 5 de 70.
Pàgina 17
... thou ? " The vision raised its head , And , with a look made of all sweet accord , Answered , " The names of those who love the Lord . " " And is mine one ? " asked Abou .- " Nay , not so , " Replied the angel . Abou spake more low ...
... thou ? " The vision raised its head , And , with a look made of all sweet accord , Answered , " The names of those who love the Lord . " " And is mine one ? " asked Abou .- " Nay , not so , " Replied the angel . Abou spake more low ...
Pàgina 22
... thou- sand years the oppressor has ground her to the earth . Her arts are no more . The last sad relics of her temples are but the bar- racks of a ruthless soldiery . The fragments of her columns and her palaces are in . the dust , yet ...
... thou- sand years the oppressor has ground her to the earth . Her arts are no more . The last sad relics of her temples are but the bar- racks of a ruthless soldiery . The fragments of her columns and her palaces are in . the dust , yet ...
Pàgina 25
... Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty ; the stars hide themselves in the sky ; the moon , cold and pale , sinks in the western wave . But thou thyself movest alone : who can be a companion of thy course ? The oaks of the mountains fall ...
... Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty ; the stars hide themselves in the sky ; the moon , cold and pale , sinks in the western wave . But thou thyself movest alone : who can be a companion of thy course ? The oaks of the mountains fall ...
Pàgina 26
26 MODULATION IN SPEAKING . But thou art perhaps like me - for a season : thy years will have an end . Thou shalt sleep in the clouds , careless of the voice of the morning . Exult , then , O sun , in the strength of thy youth ! Age is ...
26 MODULATION IN SPEAKING . But thou art perhaps like me - for a season : thy years will have an end . Thou shalt sleep in the clouds , careless of the voice of the morning . Exult , then , O sun , in the strength of thy youth ! Age is ...
Pàgina 36
... she gave , much pleasure . " Dear husband , help ! I sink ! " she cried ; " Thou best of wives , " the man replied , " I would , but you my hands have tied : Heaven help you . " THE DEATH OF O'CONNELL . 37 THE DEATH OF O'CONNELL.
... she gave , much pleasure . " Dear husband , help ! I sink ! " she cried ; " Thou best of wives , " the man replied , " I would , but you my hands have tied : Heaven help you . " THE DEATH OF O'CONNELL . 37 THE DEATH OF O'CONNELL.
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Frases i termes més freqüents
arms Babie Bell BARBARA FRIETCHIE BATTLE OF FONTENOY beautiful bells Belshazzar beneath BENEDICT ARNOLD bless blood blow blue bosom brave breast breath Bregenz bride bright brow Cæsar CATARACT OF LODORE cheek child cold cried dark dead dear death deep dream dying earth eyes face fair father fell fire flag Fontenoy gazed gold grave gray hair hand hath head hear heard heart heaven honor King kiss land Lars Porsena light lips live Lochinvar look Lord maid mother never Nevermore night o'er once pale Pompey poor pray Quoth the raven Rome rose round Sandalphon sare Scrooge Shamus shore sigh sleep smile soldier song soul SPARTACUS stars stood sweet sword tears tell Tennessee thee there's thou thought Twas voice waves Weller wery wife wild wind wonder word young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 275 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Pàgina 16 - Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given ! Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet ! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us ! JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.
Pàgina 397 - Hear the sledges with the bells Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Pàgina 298 - To die — to sleep. To sleep — perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub! For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect That makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time...
Pàgina 430 - It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way : thou wouldst be great ; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily ; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'dst have, great Glamis, That which cries ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it; And that which rather thou dost fear to do Than wishest should be undone.
Pàgina 121 - Since once I sat upon a promontory, And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath, That the rude sea grew civil at her song, And certain stars shot madly from their spheres, To hear the sea-maid's music.
Pàgina 392 - ... accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably.
Pàgina 422 - The splendor falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory, Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Pàgina 30 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Pàgina 412 - ... the vile strength he wields for earth's destruction thou dost all despise, spurning him from thy bosom to the skies: and send'st him, shivering, in thy playful spray, and howling, to his Gods, where haply lies his petty hope in some near port or bay; then dashest him again to earth — there let him lay!