A First Class Reader: Consisting of Extracts, in Prose and Verse, with Biographical and Critical Notices of the Authors : for the Use of Advanced Classes in Public and Private Schools
Swan, Brewer and Tileston, 1861 - 552 من الصفحات
ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
admirable appeared beautiful become bird born bright called character close clouds colors continued dark dead death deep delight died earth England English expression face fall feeling feet flowers gave give grace green hand happy head heard heart heaven hill honor hope hour human hundred Italy king land leaves less light living look Lord mind morning mountain nature never night observed once passed persons poems present published reached received remained rest rich river rocks rose round scene seemed seen ship side sleep soon sound spirit stand sweet thee thing thou thought thousand tone traveller trees truth turned voice waves whole wind woods written young
الصفحة 225 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his" failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all.
الصفحة 37 - 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...
الصفحة 30 - I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gatebolts undrew ; "Speed !" echoed the wall to us galloping through ; Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, And into the midnight we galloped abreast. Not a word to each other ; we kept the great pace Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place ; I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, Then shortened each stirrup, and set the...
الصفحة 149 - With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
الصفحة 224 - The swain responsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that lowed 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 bayed the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind — These all in sweet confusion sought the shade, And filled each pause the nightingale had made.
الصفحة 114 - Northeast ; The snow fell hissing in the brine. And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain, The vessel in its strength ; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length.
الصفحة 310 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
الصفحة 32 - for Aix is in sight!" "How they'll greet us!" — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
الصفحة 103 - That moss-covered vessel I hailed as a treasure ; For often at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing, And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ! Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well : The; old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket, arose from the well.
الصفحة 383 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes: Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...