The Hill Readers: Book [one-five], كتاب 5Ginn, 1906 |
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الصفحة 23
... a time to be cloudy and sad , When our mother Nature laughs around ; When even the deep blue heavens look glad , And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? 25 25 There are notes of joy from the hang - bird BOOK FIVE 23.
... a time to be cloudy and sad , When our mother Nature laughs around ; When even the deep blue heavens look glad , And gladness breathes from the blossoming ground ? 25 25 There are notes of joy from the hang - bird BOOK FIVE 23.
الصفحة 60
... hillside's dew - pearled ; The lark's on the wing ; The snail's on the thorn : God's in his heaven- All's right with the world ! ROBERT BROWNING TOM AND MAGGIE'S HAPPY DAY GEORGE ELIOT GEORGE ELIOT ( 60 THE HILL READERS SONG Robert ...
... hillside's dew - pearled ; The lark's on the wing ; The snail's on the thorn : God's in his heaven- All's right with the world ! ROBERT BROWNING TOM AND MAGGIE'S HAPPY DAY GEORGE ELIOT GEORGE ELIOT ( 60 THE HILL READERS SONG Robert ...
الصفحة 64
... heaven to sit by the pool in that way , and never be scolded . She never knew that she had a bite until Tom told her , but she liked fishing very much . It was one of their happy mornings . They 20 trotted along and sat down together ...
... heaven to sit by the pool in that way , and never be scolded . She never knew that she had a bite until Tom told her , but she liked fishing very much . It was one of their happy mornings . They 20 trotted along and sat down together ...
الصفحة 69
... Heaven is sent ! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health , and peace , and sweet content ! And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent 5 From luxury's contagion , weak and vile ! Then , howe'er crowns and coronets ...
... Heaven is sent ! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health , and peace , and sweet content ! And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent 5 From luxury's contagion , weak and vile ! Then , howe'er crowns and coronets ...
الصفحة 80
... heaven . Finding me stick to her still 20 like wax , for my mettle was up as hers was , away she flew with me swifter than ever I went before , or since , I trow . She drove full head at the cob wall , - " O Jack ! slip off ! " screamed ...
... heaven . Finding me stick to her still 20 like wax , for my mettle was up as hers was , away she flew with me swifter than ever I went before , or since , I trow . She drove full head at the cob wall , - " O Jack ! slip off ! " screamed ...
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طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
answer Arion arms asked beautiful began bells bird born breath called cane child cried Dante dark death delight earth England English eyes face farmer father fear feet France French gave Gavroche George Eliot give green hand Hansli head hear heard heart heaven HENRY WOODFIN GRADY HENRYK SIENKIEWICZ hills of Habersham honor horse John JOHN BANISTER TABB JOHN BROWN GORDON Katinka king knew land Laurens Leicester listen lived look lord Lygia master mother Nausicaa never Nicholas Nickleby night old gum boot PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE Periander phaëton plantation play poems Queen RICHARD DODDRIDGE BLACKMORE Sancho Shakespeare sick little oyster silence sing smile snow soldier song Speug stood story TELL thee things thou thought took turned valleys of Hall voice Waspik watch wild William young ZEBULON BAIRD VANCE
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 240 - For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people - ah, the people They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone They are neither man nor woman They are neither brute nor human They are Ghouls...
الصفحة 282 - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease, For Summer has o'erbrimm'd their clammy cells.
الصفحة 415 - For heaven's sake, Hubert, let me not be bound! Nay, hear me, Hubert: drive these men away, And I will sit as quiet as a lamb; I will not stir, nor wince, nor speak a word, Nor look upon the iron angerly. Thrust but these men away, and I'll forgive you, Whatever torment you do put me to.
الصفحة 252 - Hitherto, lords, what your commands imposed I have perform'd, as reason was, obeying, Not without wonder or delight beheld : Now of my own accord such other trial I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater, As with amaze shall strike all who behold.
الصفحة 320 - 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.
الصفحة 196 - Then off there flung in smiling joy, And held himself erect By just his horse's mane, a boy: You hardly could suspect — (So tight he kept his lips compressed, Scarce any blood came through) You looked twice ere you saw his breast Was all but shot in two.
الصفحة 283 - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day, And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn Among the river sallows, borne aloft Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn; Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft, And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
الصفحة 320 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.
الصفحة 319 - O well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay!
الصفحة 282 - To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel...