The poetic reciter; or, Beauties of the British poets: adapted for reading and recitation, in public and private seminaries. Com piled by H. Marlen1838 |
Αναζήτηση στο βιβλίο
Αποτελέσματα 1 - 5 από τα 42.
Σελίδα 26
... thine hand ! " the boatman cried , " Lord William , reach and save ! ” — The child stretched forth his little hands To grasp the hand he gave . Then William shrieked ; -the hand he touched Was cold , and damp , and dead ! He felt young ...
... thine hand ! " the boatman cried , " Lord William , reach and save ! ” — The child stretched forth his little hands To grasp the hand he gave . Then William shrieked ; -the hand he touched Was cold , and damp , and dead ! He felt young ...
Σελίδα 80
... thine Almighty Friend is known ; And say'st thou , thou art " all alone ? " ELIZA . Now stood Eliza on the wood - crowned height , O'er Minden's plain , spectatress of the fight ; Sought with bold eye amid the bloody strife Her dearer ...
... thine Almighty Friend is known ; And say'st thou , thou art " all alone ? " ELIZA . Now stood Eliza on the wood - crowned height , O'er Minden's plain , spectatress of the fight ; Sought with bold eye amid the bloody strife Her dearer ...
Σελίδα 97
... thine , By Him recalled to breath , Who captive led captivity , Who robbed the grave of Victory , - And took the sting from Death ! Go , Sun , while Mercy holds me up On Nature's awful waste , To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief ...
... thine , By Him recalled to breath , Who captive led captivity , Who robbed the grave of Victory , - And took the sting from Death ! Go , Sun , while Mercy holds me up On Nature's awful waste , To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief ...
Σελίδα 103
... Thine are hard , But short the time , and glorious the reward ; Thy patient spirit to thy duties give , Regard the dead ! but to the living , live ! BOADICEA . AN ODE . WHEN the British warrior queen THE POETIC RECITER . 103.
... Thine are hard , But short the time , and glorious the reward ; Thy patient spirit to thy duties give , Regard the dead ! but to the living , live ! BOADICEA . AN ODE . WHEN the British warrior queen THE POETIC RECITER . 103.
Σελίδα 110
... thine , And such a head between them . GREECE , AS IT IMPRESSED THE MIND OF THE POET IN 1810 , He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled , The first dark day of nothingness , The last of danger and distress ...
... thine , And such a head between them . GREECE , AS IT IMPRESSED THE MIND OF THE POET IN 1810 , He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled , The first dark day of nothingness , The last of danger and distress ...
Άλλες εκδόσεις - Προβολή όλων
The Poetic Reciter; Or, Beauties of the British Poets: Adapted for Reading ... Henry Marlen Δεν υπάρχει διαθέσιμη προεπισκόπηση - 2016 |
Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
arms behold Belshazzar beneath beneath the sky black crows blessed blest bosom breast breath bright brow Brutus Cæsar clouds cold cried dark dead dear death deep dread dream earth eternal fair fame fate father fear fire flame flowers gazed Gelert glory glow grave Greece hand harp hast hath hear heard heart Heaven hope hour life's light lisp live Lochiel Lochinvar lonely look Lord Lyre Macgregor maid morn mother mourn ne'er Netherby never night numbers o'er pale poor praise pride proud rapture rill round scene seraph shade shore sigh silent sleep smile sorrow soul sound spirit Star of Bethlehem stood storm stream sweet sword tear tempest thee thine thou thought thunder Tis green Tom Long trembling Twas voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings young youth
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 283 - 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 honourable man.
Σελίδα 274 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
Σελίδα 294 - No traveller 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...
Σελίδα 62 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place...
Σελίδα 285 - I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood...
Σελίδα 63 - 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. And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Σελίδα 283 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Σελίδα 238 - Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. Silence how dead! and darkness how profound! Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds ; Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause ; An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
Σελίδα 238 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the, knell of my departed hours : Where are they?
Σελίδα 157 - And e'en the bare-worn common is denied. If to the city sped — What waits him there? To see profusion that he must not share ; To see ten thousand baneful arts combined To pamper luxury, and thin mankind ; To see each joy the sons of pleasure know, Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe.