The Rival Collection of Prose and Poetry, for the Use of Schools, Colleges and Public Readers |
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Resultados 1-5 de 47
Página 7
186 Faded Flowers and Wreath of Withered Leaves . . . . . . W . C . Desmond . 188
Apostrophe to Water . . . . . . . . . . . . A . W . Arrington . 189 Bridge of Sighs . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . Thomas Hood . 190 Death of Bertram . . . Sir Walter Scott .
186 Faded Flowers and Wreath of Withered Leaves . . . . . . W . C . Desmond . 188
Apostrophe to Water . . . . . . . . . . . . A . W . Arrington . 189 Bridge of Sighs . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . Thomas Hood . 190 Death of Bertram . . . Sir Walter Scott .
Página 30
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 strewn . For the Angel of
Death ...
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 strewn . For the Angel of
Death ...
Página 34
Then leave the poor Plebeian his single tie to lifeThe sweet , sweet love of
daughter , of sister , and of wife ; The gentle speech , the balm for all that his
vexed soul endures , The kiss , in which he half forgets even such a yoke as
yours . Still let ...
Then leave the poor Plebeian his single tie to lifeThe sweet , sweet love of
daughter , of sister , and of wife ; The gentle speech , the balm for all that his
vexed soul endures , The kiss , in which he half forgets even such a yoke as
yours . Still let ...
Página 54
I must leave this place , or I ' ll be arrested for burglary , and I an ' t come to that
yet ! Anyhow , it was the wheel - barrow did the harm , not me ! BELSHAZZAR . –
PROCTER . DELSHAZZAR is king ! Belshazzar is lord ! D And a thousand dark ...
I must leave this place , or I ' ll be arrested for burglary , and I an ' t come to that
yet ! Anyhow , it was the wheel - barrow did the harm , not me ! BELSHAZZAR . –
PROCTER . DELSHAZZAR is king ! Belshazzar is lord ! D And a thousand dark ...
Página 57
The Arts lay dead ; Trade rotted in your marts ; your Armies mutinous , Your
Treasury bankrupt . Would you now revoke Your trust , so be it ! and I leave you ,
sole , Supremest Monarch of the mightiest realm From Ganges to the Icebergs .
The Arts lay dead ; Trade rotted in your marts ; your Armies mutinous , Your
Treasury bankrupt . Would you now revoke Your trust , so be it ! and I leave you ,
sole , Supremest Monarch of the mightiest realm From Ganges to the Icebergs .
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Palavras e frases frequentes
arms beautiful bells beneath blood blow blue breath bright brow cheek child cold comes cried dark dead dear death deep door dream dying earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel feet fell fire give gold gone grave hair hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hill honor hope hour king land leave light lips live look Lord meet mother never night o'er once passed poor pray rest rise rose round seemed shore side smile song soul sound speak spirit stand stars stood strong sweet sword tears tell thee thing thou thought thousand town turned voice waters wave wife wild wind wonder young youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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...
Página 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...
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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.
Página 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!