Hazen's Primer and First-[fifth] Reader, Cartea 5Sheldon, 1896 |
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Pagina vi
... NIGHT AUTHOR . PAGE George Croly . 126 Henry Ward Beecher . 128 William Morris . 133 Horace Mann . 135 138 Lord George Noel Gordon Byron . Lord George Noel Gordon Byron . 139 140 29. O MOTHER OF A MIGHTY RACE - POEM 30. THE LAST OF THE ...
... NIGHT AUTHOR . PAGE George Croly . 126 Henry Ward Beecher . 128 William Morris . 133 Horace Mann . 135 138 Lord George Noel Gordon Byron . Lord George Noel Gordon Byron . 139 140 29. O MOTHER OF A MIGHTY RACE - POEM 30. THE LAST OF THE ...
Pagina vii
... NIGHT IN THE DESERT - POEM 72. JERUSALEM - Illustrated 73. FROM " LORNA DOONE " 74. POEMS FROM COLERIDGE- I. KUBLA KHAN II . THE GOOD GREAT MAN . 75. GRANDMOTHER'S GOVERNMENT 76. THE VALUE OF YESTERDAY 77. DECEMBER -- POEM 78. THE ...
... NIGHT IN THE DESERT - POEM 72. JERUSALEM - Illustrated 73. FROM " LORNA DOONE " 74. POEMS FROM COLERIDGE- I. KUBLA KHAN II . THE GOOD GREAT MAN . 75. GRANDMOTHER'S GOVERNMENT 76. THE VALUE OF YESTERDAY 77. DECEMBER -- POEM 78. THE ...
Pagina xxi
... night . That last still night . own arms . Amidst the mists , with wildest boasts , He thrusts his fists against the posts , And still insists he sees the ghosts . Theophilus Thistle , the successful thistle - sifter , in sifting a ...
... night . That last still night . own arms . Amidst the mists , with wildest boasts , He thrusts his fists against the posts , And still insists he sees the ghosts . Theophilus Thistle , the successful thistle - sifter , in sifting a ...
Pagina 69
... night in this woman's alehouse , without having money to discharge my reckoning . Not knowing what to do , and seeing her much occupied with a child who had weak eyes , I had the meanness to pretend that I could write out a spell that ...
... night in this woman's alehouse , without having money to discharge my reckoning . Not knowing what to do , and seeing her much occupied with a child who had weak eyes , I had the meanness to pretend that I could write out a spell that ...
Pagina 71
... " You are very good , my lord , and I dare say your power is very great , but you cannot be of use to my daughter and me . If you were to set us at liberty WITCHCRAFT IN THE 17TH CENTURY . 71 NIGHT IN THE DESERT-POEM.
... " You are very good , my lord , and I dare say your power is very great , but you cannot be of use to my daughter and me . If you were to set us at liberty WITCHCRAFT IN THE 17TH CENTURY . 71 NIGHT IN THE DESERT-POEM.
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Termeni și expresii frecvente
ADELBERT VON CHAMISSO Atahuallpa beauty Ben-Hur blow boat born breath called CHARLES KINGSLEY comes congress of Aix-la-Chapelle cried D'Artagnan Dangle dark death dreams earth emphasis expression extract eyes fear feel feet figures of speech fire flowers force FRANCIS BRET HARTE give hand heart heaven human Inca inflection JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER labor land light live look Lord meaning meant mind mother mountains nature never Nicholina night o'er once pause poems poet poetic poetry poor prose rich Romola round shadow sing Sir Fret sleep smile Sneer soon soul sound speak story style sweet syllables tell thee things thou thought tion tone tree turn utter verse virtue voice WASHINGTON IRVING waves WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT WILLIAM PALEY wind witchcraft woman words writings young
Pasaje populare
Pagina 451 - FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, 'Arise, ye more than dead!
Pagina 505 - 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.
Pagina 492 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells; In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire.
Pagina 277 - HAIL to thee, blithe spirit ! Bird thou never wert, That from heaven, or near it, Pourest thy full heart In profuse strains of unpremeditated art Higher still and higher From the earth thou springest Like a cloud of fire; The blue deep thou wingest, And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
Pagina 479 - LORD, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God. Thou turnest man to destruction; and sayest, Return, ye children of men.
Pagina 499 - We hailed it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners
Pagina 502 - Around, around flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes, a-dropping from the sky, I heard the skylark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are,— How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute.
Pagina 499 - With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. 50 And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
Pagina 397 - We in thought will join your throng, Ye that pipe and ye that play, Ye that through your hearts to-day Feel the gladness of the May ! What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower...
Pagina 265 - Who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscovered country from whose bourn No traveler returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...