The American First Class Book, Or, Exercises in Reading and RecitationT.P. & J.S. Fowle, 1823 - 480 страници |
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Страница 9
... Trees , 141. The Discontented Pendulum , 146. Letter from the British Spy , in Virginia , 167. The Abuses of Conscience ; -a sermon , 168. The same , continued , 171. Character of John Playfair , Lond . Lil . Gaz , 272 W. IRVING . 295 ...
... Trees , 141. The Discontented Pendulum , 146. Letter from the British Spy , in Virginia , 167. The Abuses of Conscience ; -a sermon , 168. The same , continued , 171. Character of John Playfair , Lond . Lil . Gaz , 272 W. IRVING . 295 ...
Страница 19
... trees the life of man is found , Now green in youth , now with'ring on the ground ; Another race the following spring supplies , They fall successive , and successive rise : So generations in their course decay ; So flourish these ...
... trees the life of man is found , Now green in youth , now with'ring on the ground ; Another race the following spring supplies , They fall successive , and successive rise : So generations in their course decay ; So flourish these ...
Страница 22
... trees , and be- tray the half - hidden cottage : the eye contemplates well- thatched ricks , and barns bursting with plenty : the peasant laughs at the approach of winter . White houses peep through the trees ; cattle stand cool- ing in ...
... trees , and be- tray the half - hidden cottage : the eye contemplates well- thatched ricks , and barns bursting with plenty : the peasant laughs at the approach of winter . White houses peep through the trees ; cattle stand cool- ing in ...
Страница 23
... trees which I have planted . The fruit of his years of toil is swept away in a moment ; wast- ed , not enjoyed ; and the evening of his days is left desolate . The temples are profaned : the soldier's curse resounds in the house of God ...
... trees which I have planted . The fruit of his years of toil is swept away in a moment ; wast- ed , not enjoyed ; and the evening of his days is left desolate . The temples are profaned : the soldier's curse resounds in the house of God ...
Страница 28
... trees a yellower verdure shed , And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales , the rocks in prospect rise , A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; The conscious swains , rejoicing in the sight , Eye the blue ...
... trees a yellower verdure shed , And tip with silver every mountain's head ; Then shine the vales , the rocks in prospect rise , A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; The conscious swains , rejoicing in the sight , Eye the blue ...
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animal arms baneful band beauty beneath bless bosom breath bright Cadmus calm character clouds cold dark dead death deep delight dread Dryden Duellist earth eternity Eurystheus exis eyes faith fall fantastick father fear feel Fingal flowers friends gaze George Somers grave hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven Herculaneum hills honour hope hour human irreligion labour LESSON light live look mind moon morning mortal Moss-side mother mountain mournful Mozambic Mozart mummies nature never night o'er objects Old Mortality Ossian passed peace pleasure Pompey's Pillar poor Pythias religion rocks round scene seemed Shakspeare silent sleep smile sorrow soul sound spirit stood stream sublime sweet tears tence tender terrour thee thing thought tion trees truth virtue voice Wallace's Cave wandering waves wild William Penn winds wisdom youth
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Страница 447 - When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious ; And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see, that, on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse.
Страница 26 - The sober herd that low'd to meet their young ; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school ; The watch-dog's voice, that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
Страница 433 - Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand ? Come, let me clutch thee. I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw. Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going ; And such an instrument I was to use. Mine eyes are made the fools o...
Страница 447 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Страница 282 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, — The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, — These are thy toys, and as the snowy flake. They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Страница 444 - tis true, this god did shake ; His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre : I did hear him groan : Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas, it cried, 'Give me some drink, Titinius,
Страница 254 - Take the wings Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there ! And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone.
Страница 446 - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears : I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Ca-sar.
Страница 25 - All sadness but despair : now gentle gales, Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow Sabean odours from the spicy shore Of Araby the Blest ; with such delay Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league Cheer'd with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles...
Страница 446 - As Caesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it ; as he was valiant, I honour him ; but, as he was ambitious, I slew him.