Book of juvenile poetry, selected from the best authors [signed E.D.].1864 |
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Página 16
... thought , The lesson well could trace , Which even he " who runs may read , " That Perseverance gains its meed , And Patience wins the race . BERNARD BARTON . Cœur de Lion at the Bier of his Father . 16 Juvenile Poetry .
... thought , The lesson well could trace , Which even he " who runs may read , " That Perseverance gains its meed , And Patience wins the race . BERNARD BARTON . Cœur de Lion at the Bier of his Father . 16 Juvenile Poetry .
Página 25
... thought of Seine's impurpled flood ; And good Coligni's hoary hair , all dabbled with his blood , And we cried unto the living God , who rules the fate of war , To fight for His own holy name and Henry of Navarre ! The king is come to ...
... thought of Seine's impurpled flood ; And good Coligni's hoary hair , all dabbled with his blood , And we cried unto the living God , who rules the fate of war , To fight for His own holy name and Henry of Navarre ! The king is come to ...
Página 26
... thought of vengeance , and all along our van , " Remember St. Bartholomew , " was passed from man to man . But out spoke gentle Henry , " No Frenchman is my foe ; Down , down with every foreigner , but let your brethren go . " Oh ! was ...
... thought of vengeance , and all along our van , " Remember St. Bartholomew , " was passed from man to man . But out spoke gentle Henry , " No Frenchman is my foe ; Down , down with every foreigner , but let your brethren go . " Oh ! was ...
Página 42
... thought of the morrow . We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed , And smoothed down his lonely pillow , That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head , And we far away on the billow . Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's ...
... thought of the morrow . We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed , And smoothed down his lonely pillow , That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head , And we far away on the billow . Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's ...
Página 44
... thought of thee , Fast they rise , the bold , the free , Sweeping past thy lowly bed , With a mute though stately tread . Shedding their pale armour's light Forth upon the breathless night , Bending every warlike plume In the prayer o ...
... thought of thee , Fast they rise , the bold , the free , Sweeping past thy lowly bed , With a mute though stately tread . Shedding their pale armour's light Forth upon the breathless night , Bending every warlike plume In the prayer o ...
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Book of Juvenile Poetry, Selected from the Best Authors [Signed E.D.] Book Pré-visualização indisponível - 2016 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
angel BARRY CORNWALL beautiful beneath BERNARD BARTON bird Bishop of Hereford blessed breast breath bright busy bee cheer child clouds daisies dark dear dream earth ELIZA COOK fair Fakenham father fear flowers fly away home gentle Gilpin glad grace green grief hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill holy horned owl hour John Barleycorn John Gilpin king King Lear land light lonely look loud MARY HOWITT merry morn mother ne'er nest never night o'er play pleasant poor pray rain rest Robin Hood round shining sigh sight sing sleep smile snow snowdrops soft song sorrow soul sound spring stood storm summer sunshine sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou art thought toil tree Twas voice wandered watch weary wild wind wings winter woods youth
Passagens conhecidas
Página 349 - My fairest child, I have no song to give you ; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray : Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long : And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song.
Página 49 - THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND. ?HE breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed. And the heavy night hung dark. The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Página 133 - It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter To bear him company. Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.
Página 25 - King is come to marshal us, in all his armor drest, And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye ; He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high. Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, Down all our line, a deafening shout,
Página 359 - Lo! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod;' Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.
Página 30 - Peak unfurled the flag o'er Darwin's rocky dales Till like volcanoes flared to heaven the stormy hills of Wales, Till twelve fair counties saw the blaze on Malvern's lonely height, Till streamed in crimson on the- wind the Wrekin's crest of light, Till broad and fierce the star came forth on Ely's stately fane, And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the boundless plain ; Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent, And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide vale of Trent; Till...
Página 161 - Until he came unto the Wash Of Edmonton so gay ; And there he threw the wash about On both sides of the way, Just like unto a trundling mop, Or a wild goose at play.
Página 122 - I met a little cottage girl : She was eight years old, she said ; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodlai.d air, And she was wildly clad; Her eyes were fair, and very fair; — Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be? " " How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Página 159 - And keep it safe and sound. Each bottle had a curling ear, Through which the belt he drew, And hung a bottle on each side, To make his balance true. Then over all, that he might be Equipp'd from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully did throw.
Página 42 - ... misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.