ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
accent adjective adverb Alphabet AMPHIBRACH ancient Anglo-Saxon antecedent Auxiliary verb C. S. Note called common compound conjugation conjunction connected consonant consonantal copula dative denotes derived dialect Diphthong elementary sound ellipsis English language equivalent etymology example EXERCISES UNDER RULE express French Future Perfect Tense gender genitive German Give glish Gothic Grammatical Greek guage Hebrew idea inflection Italian king Latin letters logical loved meaning mind nature nominative Note I.—a noun object origin orthoepy orthography participle Past Tense Perfect Tense personal pronoun phonetic elements phrases possessive predicate prefix Present Tense preterit pronunciation proposition QUESTIONS UNDER CHAPTER relation represented Roman root Sanscrit Saxon sense simple singular number sometimes speak species speech spoken subjunctive substantive suffix syllable SYNTAX taken term termination Teutonic thee thing thou thought tion tive transitive verb Trochees verb voice vowel whence words writing
الصفحة 683 - I see before me the Gladiator lie ; He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony. And his droop'd head sinks gradually low, And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
الصفحة 678 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against The deep damnation of his taking-off; And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim horsed Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.
الصفحة 106 - He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
الصفحة 162 - 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. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed...
الصفحة 734 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny : You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
الصفحة 688 - Runs the great circuit, and is still at home. 0 winter, ruler of the inverted year, Thy scattered hair with sleet like ashes filled, Thy breath congealed upon thy lips, thy cheeks Fringed with a beard made white with other snows Than those of age, thy forehead wrapped in clouds, A leafless branch thy sceptre, and thy throne A sliding car, indebted to no wheels, But urged by storms along its slippery way, 1 love thee, all unlovely as thou seem'st, And dreaded as thou art!
الصفحة 59 - The Sanskrit language, whatever be its antiquity, is of a wonderful structure; more perfect than the Greek, more copious than the Latin, and more exquisitely refined than either, yet bearing to both of them a stronger affinity, both in the roots of verbs and in the forms of grammar, than could possibly have been produced by accident; so strong indeed, that no philologer could examine them all three, without believing them to have sprung from some common source, which, perhaps, no longer exists...
الصفحة 698 - Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!
الصفحة 683 - Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand I see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail, That idly waiting flaps with every gale, Downward they move, a melancholy band, Pass from the shore and darken all the strand. Contented toil and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness are there; And piety, with wishes placed above, And steady loyalty and faithful love.