McGuffey's New 4th, 6th, Eclectic Reader, Volum 6Wilson, Hinkle & Company, 1867 |
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Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
McGuffey's New 4th, 6th, Eclectic Reader, Volum 4 William Holmes McGuffey Visualització completa - 1857 |
Frases i termes més freqüents
1st Capt 1st Sold 2d Capt accent Antiparos arms battle beauty Boabdil Bœuf Boskos bosom brave breath bright Brutus Cæsar cesura child circumflex clouds dark dead death deep dream earth EXAMPLES eyes face falling inflection father fear fire friends give grave hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry Kirke White honor hope hour Iago Ivanhoe king La Fayette land light live look Lord mighty mind Morar morning mother mountain murmur nature never night o'er passed pause peace Pilgrim's Progress poor roar Robert Raikes rocks round Samian wine scene seemed silence sleep smile sorrow soul sound South Carolina speak spirit stars stood sweet sword tears tell tempest thee thine thing thou art thought thunder tone unto voice waves wild wind wings words young
Passatges populars
Pàgina 443 - When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood...
Pàgina 401 - German despot ; your attempts will be for ever vain and impotent — doubly so, indeed, from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms : Never, never, never...
Pàgina 419 - His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory ; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Pàgina 419 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Pàgina 355 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, " Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you "—here I opened wide the door.
Pàgina 415 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered '"Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Pàgina 197 - TO him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Pàgina 357 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird, or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Pàgina 111 - The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, The insolence of office and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, When he himself might his quietus make With a bare bodkin...
Pàgina 126 - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.