Fifth Reading BookSchwartz, Kirwin & Fauss, 1904 - 512 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 14
... tree's shade , Where heaves the turf in many a mold'ring heap , Each in his narrow cell forever laid , The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep . The breezy call of incense - breathing morn , The swallow twitt'ring from the straw ...
... tree's shade , Where heaves the turf in many a mold'ring heap , Each in his narrow cell forever laid , The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep . The breezy call of incense - breathing morn , The swallow twitt'ring from the straw ...
الصفحة 18
... tree ; Another came , nor yet beside the rill , Nor up the lawn , nor at the wood was he ; " The next , with dirges due in sad array Slow thro ' the church - way path we saw him borne- Approach and read ( for thou canst read ) the lay ...
... tree ; Another came , nor yet beside the rill , Nor up the lawn , nor at the wood was he ; " The next , with dirges due in sad array Slow thro ' the church - way path we saw him borne- Approach and read ( for thou canst read ) the lay ...
الصفحة 29
... tree in a wooden box , from whose branches hung oranges , sweetmeats , and toys . And the cook of the first citizen had pinned behind her back the two strings of her cap , as she only did on her days of in- spiration when she was sure ...
... tree in a wooden box , from whose branches hung oranges , sweetmeats , and toys . And the cook of the first citizen had pinned behind her back the two strings of her cap , as she only did on her days of in- spiration when she was sure ...
الصفحة 46
... tree ; and , if he looked at the tree in the morning , he could see the expanding blossom of that night's supper ; or , at eventide , he saw the tender bud of to - morrow's breakfast . It was a very pleasant life indeed . No labor to be ...
... tree ; and , if he looked at the tree in the morning , he could see the expanding blossom of that night's supper ; or , at eventide , he saw the tender bud of to - morrow's breakfast . It was a very pleasant life indeed . No labor to be ...
الصفحة 47
... trees , for our supper . And I know a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted . " " Always talking about grapes and figs ! " cried Pandora , pettishly . 66 Well , then , " said Epimetheus , who THE PARADISE OF ...
... trees , for our supper . And I know a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes you ever tasted . " " Always talking about grapes and figs ! " cried Pandora , pettishly . 66 Well , then , " said Epimetheus , who THE PARADISE OF ...
طبعات أخرى - عرض جميع المقتطفات
عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Acadians ancient ANGEL Antony Augustin beautiful bird blood born breast brother BROTHER AZARIAS Brutus Caesar Caligula called child Church cloud cried dead dear death door dream earth England English Epimetheus eyes face fear fell fire Fourth Cit friends Gluck gold Golden River Grail hand hath head hear heard heart Heaven holy Holy Grail honorable horse hour hundred Irish language JAMES SHIRLEY king land light living looked Lord Mock Turtle monks morning mountain never night noble o'er Pandora Piso poems poet poor Pope pray prayer Prince John rest Rip Van Winkle round Saxons Schwartz Second Cit seemed ship side sleep soul speak spirit stood sweet tell thee things thought Treasure Valley trees turned voice WILLIAM COWPER WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE wind words
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 250 - He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept: Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honorable man.
الصفحة 251 - I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause : What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
الصفحة 308 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make Man better be ; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere : A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night — It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see ; And in short measures life may perfect be.
الصفحة 307 - What objects are the fountains Of thy happy strain? What fields or waves or mountains? What shapes of sky or plain? What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? With thy clear keen joyance Languor cannot be; Shadow of annoyance Never came near thee; Thou lovest, but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
الصفحة 69 - And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong : He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. 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 roar'd the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold : And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
الصفحة 72 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion ; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
الصفحة 192 - Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee— by these angels he hath sent thee Respite— respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
الصفحة 317 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the...
الصفحة 251 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world ; now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
الصفحة 218 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.