Beacon Lights of Patriotism: Or, Historic Incentives to Virtue and Good Citizenship. In Prose and Verse with Notes. Dedicated to American Youth |
Im Buch
Seite 281
Where grows ? Where grows it not ? If vain our toil , We ought to blame the culture , not the soil . Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere ; " T is nowhere to be found , or everywhere ; ' Tis never to be bought , but always free ...
Where grows ? Where grows it not ? If vain our toil , We ought to blame the culture , not the soil . Fixed to no spot is Happiness sincere ; " T is nowhere to be found , or everywhere ; ' Tis never to be bought , but always free ...
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Address American arms army battle become beneath better bless blood boys brave breath cause century citizens crown dead death duty earth equal eyes faith fame fathers fear feel field flag follow force freedom friends future give glorious glory grave hand happy hath heard heart Heaven heroes hills hold honor hope human Independence Italy king labor land liberty light live look mighty mind moral mountain never night noble o'er passed patriotic peace principles rest rise shore slave soldiers soul sound spirit stand stars strong success sword tell thee things thou thought true truth turn United victory virtue voice Washington wave whole young youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 389 - There shall be sung another golden age. The rise of empire and of arts, The good and great inspiring epic rage, The wisest heads and noblest hearts. Not such as Europe breeds in her decay; Such as she bred when fresh and young. When heavenly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be sung. Westward the course of empire takes its way; The four first Acts already past, A fifth shall close the Drama with the day: Time's noblest offspring is the last.
Seite 213 - And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Seite 236 - Then the progeny that springs From the forests of our land, Armed with thunder, clad with wings, Shall a wider world command. 'Regions Caesar never knew Thy posterity shall sway, Where his eagles never flew, None invincible as they...
Seite 136 - I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last solemn act of my official life, by commending the interests of our dearest country, to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintendence of them to his holy keeping.
Seite 406 - O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there: O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Seite 100 - How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew! The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it, The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell, The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it, And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.
Seite 299 - It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated, here, to the unfinished work that they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us...
Seite 25 - X. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house, thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-servant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbor's.
Seite 236 - Druid, hoary chief; every burning word he spoke full of rage, and full of grief: ' Princess ! if our aged eyes weep upon thy matchless wrongs, 'tis because resentment ties all the terrors of our tongues. ' Rome shall perish — write that word in the blood that she has spilt ; perish, hopeless and abhorred, deep in ruin as in guilt.
Seite 106 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand...