A Modern English Grammar

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Newson, 1900 - 291 страници
 

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Страница 170 - Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...
Страница 72 - Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience.
Страница 139 - Gently o'er the accustomed oak. Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly, Most musical, most melancholy! Thee, chauntress, oft the woods among I woo, to hear thy even-song; And missing thee, I walk unseen On the dry smooth-shaven green. To behold the wandering moon, Riding near her highest noon. Like one that had been led astray Through the heaven's wide pathless way, And oft, as if her head she bowed, Stooping through a fleecy cloud.
Страница 18 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Страница 80 - I meet with the grief of parents upon a tombstone, my heart melts with compassion ; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow: when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions and debates of mankind.
Страница 176 - O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength ; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.
Страница 139 - His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes; And while he Heaven and Earth defied Changed his hand and check'd his pride. He chose a mournful Muse Soft pity to infuse: He sung Darius great and good, By too severe a fate Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen. Fallen from his high estate. And weltering in his blood; Deserted at his utmost need By those, his former bounty fed; On the bare earth exposed he lies With not a friend to close his eyes.
Страница 206 - Some have too much, yet still do crave; I little have, and seek no more. They are but poor, though much they have, And I am rich with little store: They poor, I rich; they beg, I give; They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.
Страница 92 - AY me ! what perils do environ The man that meddles with cold iron ! What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps Do dog him still with after-claps...
Страница 271 - Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, The sound must seem an echo to the sense : Soft is the strain when zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar.

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