The New Century Readers by Grades, Band 6Rand, McNally, 1901 - 159 Seiten |
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Seite 15
... voices sad and pro- phetic , Stand like harpers hoar , with beards that rest on their bosoms . Loud from its rocky ... voice of the huntsman ? Where is the thatched - roofed village , the home of Acadian farmers , - Men whose lives ...
... voices sad and pro- phetic , Stand like harpers hoar , with beards that rest on their bosoms . Loud from its rocky ... voice of the huntsman ? Where is the thatched - roofed village , the home of Acadian farmers , - Men whose lives ...
Seite 26
... voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow , Lo ! with a mournful sound , like the voice of a vast congregation , Solemnly answered the sea , and mingled its roar with the dirges . ' Twas the returning tide , that afar from the ...
... voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow , Lo ! with a mournful sound , like the voice of a vast congregation , Solemnly answered the sea , and mingled its roar with the dirges . ' Twas the returning tide , that afar from the ...
Seite 28
... voice of young , giant strength rings through it , the silver clarion of his hope that sounds to an awakening , to an onset , to a festival of glory , preparing ! preparing ! -his look of fire now fixed on the ground , now straining ...
... voice of young , giant strength rings through it , the silver clarion of his hope that sounds to an awakening , to an onset , to a festival of glory , preparing ! preparing ! -his look of fire now fixed on the ground , now straining ...
Seite 31
... voice through which the rising spirit of a young nation sounded out its dream of life is hushed . The great spokesman , of an age unto an age , is dead . And yet of those lost words is not our whole . America one immortal record and ...
... voice through which the rising spirit of a young nation sounded out its dream of life is hushed . The great spokesman , of an age unto an age , is dead . And yet of those lost words is not our whole . America one immortal record and ...
Seite 36
... voice of God . With simple resignation he bowed to the divine decree . As the end drew near , his early craving for ... voices . With wan , fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze , he looked wistfully out upon the ocean's ...
... voice of God . With simple resignation he bowed to the divine decree . As the end drew near , his early craving for ... voices . With wan , fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze , he looked wistfully out upon the ocean's ...
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Absalom Acadian angel army beauty bells beneath billows blood bosom Bregenz brow BUNKER HILL MONUMENT Cassius Caudle CHARLES GAYARRÉ colonies dark death deep Don Quixote DOUGLAS WILLIAM JERROLD earth EDWARD AUGUSTUS FREEMAN English eyes father feel fire give gold grim rocks hand happiness hath hear heart heaven HENRY WATTERSON hill honor human JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER labor land liberty lift light living look Lord LORD BYRON ment mighty mind moon morning mountain NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS nation nature never night noble Normans o'er ocean passed patriot peace pride repose rise river Lee rolling round Sancho Shandon shore silent snow song soul sound spirit stand stone stood sweet swells tears thee thine thing thou tion toil tolling troops umbrella voice weary wind wood
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 52 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Seite 147 - You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats, For I am arm'd so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not.
Seite 101 - ... sort of people who think that nothing exists but what is gross and material, and who, therefore, far from being qualified to be directors of the great movement of empire, are not fit to turn a wheel in the machine. But to men truly initiated and rightly taught, these ruling and master principles which, in the opinion of such men as I have mentioned, have no substantial existence, are in truth everything, and all in all. Magnanimity in politics is not seldom the truest wisdom ; and a great empire...
Seite 147 - I had rather coin my heart, And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash By any indirection: I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which you denied me: was that done like Cassius?
Seite 15 - THIS is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Seite 70 - O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!
Seite 133 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells ! How it swells ! How it dwells On the Future ! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells — To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells...
Seite 101 - England worship freedom, they will turn their faces towards you. The more they multiply, the more friends you will have; the more ardently they love liberty, the more perfect will be their obedience. Slavery they can have anywhere. It is a weed that grows in every soil.
Seite 155 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread : Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, Would that its tone could reach the rich ! She sang this
Seite 83 - Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.