The Code poetical reader, by a teacher |
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Seite 28
... Sweet Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain , Tell me not , in mournful numbers , mha A carrion came down like the wolf on the fold . Under a spreading chestnut tree Up from the meadows , rich with corn , Vital spark of heavenly flame ...
... Sweet Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain , Tell me not , in mournful numbers , mha A carrion came down like the wolf on the fold . Under a spreading chestnut tree Up from the meadows , rich with corn , Vital spark of heavenly flame ...
Seite 7
... sweet face of Lucy Gray , Will never more be seen . " To - night will be a stormy night- You to the town must go ; And take a lantern , child , to light Your mother through the snow . " " That , father ! will I gladly do ; ' Tis ...
... sweet face of Lucy Gray , Will never more be seen . " To - night will be a stormy night- You to the town must go ; And take a lantern , child , to light Your mother through the snow . " " That , father ! will I gladly do ; ' Tis ...
Seite 8
... whistles in the wind . Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living child ; That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome * wild . 60 THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER . - Pope . ALEXANDER POPE ( 8 THE CODE POETICAL READER .
... whistles in the wind . Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living child ; That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome * wild . 60 THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER . - Pope . ALEXANDER POPE ( 8 THE CODE POETICAL READER .
Seite 10
... sweet spice which is burned in religious rites . Teach me to feel another's woe , * To hide the fault I see : That mercy I to others show , That mercy show to me . * so , Mean though I am , not wholly Since quickened by Thy breath ; Oh ...
... sweet spice which is burned in religious rites . Teach me to feel another's woe , * To hide the fault I see : That mercy I to others show , That mercy show to me . * so , Mean though I am , not wholly Since quickened by Thy breath ; Oh ...
Seite 16
... sweet , the church - bells ' chime Floats through their woods at morn ; All other sounds , in that still time , Of breeze and leaf are born . The cottage Honies of England ! By thousands on her plains , They are smiling o'er the silvery ...
... sweet , the church - bells ' chime Floats through their woods at morn ; All other sounds , in that still time , Of breeze and leaf are born . The cottage Honies of England ! By thousands on her plains , They are smiling o'er the silvery ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ancient Arth Assyria battle BATTLE OF BLENHEIM beautiful bells beneath blood born brave breast breath bright Cæsar Chief poems child cried dark dead dear death deep dreadful Duke earth Eton College eyes fair father fear fire flowers gallant gazed Gelert Gilpin grave green hand haste hath head hear heard heart heaven hills horse Hubert Inchcape Inchcape Rock Ivy green John Gilpin king land Lars Porsena light lips living Lochinvar look Lord Lycidas mercy morning ne'er Netherby never night noble o'er pale passed poet Prince of Condé quoth river roar round Samian wine Scotland shore sing smile soldiers song sorrow soul sound stars steed stone stood storm sweet swell sword tears tell thee thou art tide town Trainband Twas voice waves ween wild wind young youth ΙΟ
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 145 - And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts ; 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.
Seite 29 - So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stayed not for brake and he stopped not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none : But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late : For a laggard in love and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Seite 129 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Seite 16 - Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, " What writest thou ?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, " The names of those who love the Lord." " And is mine one ? " said Abou. " Nay, not so,
Seite 36 - JOHN GILPIN was a citizen Of credit and renown, A train-band captain eke was he Of famous London town. John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, "Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen.
Seite 16 - 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.
Seite 88 - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree...
Seite 133 - THE EPITAPH Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frowned not on his humble birth, And melancholy marked him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, . Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to misery all he had, a tear: He gained from heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend.
Seite 122 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Seite 82 - THE way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old ; His wither'd cheek, and tresses grey, Seem'd to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy.