The class and standard series of reading books. 5 pt. [in 7].1868 |
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Seite 4
... comes to him aright ! All comes to him as he likes it best , Nor any his will gainsay ! And he rides on the waves like a bold young king That was crowned but yesterday ! Mary Howitt . THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS . THERE is a Reaper ...
... comes to him aright ! All comes to him as he likes it best , Nor any his will gainsay ! And he rides on the waves like a bold young king That was crowned but yesterday ! Mary Howitt . THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS . THERE is a Reaper ...
Seite 14
... Comes with his stately stride . He smiled on those bold Romans A smile serene and high ; He eyed the flinching Tuscans , And scorn was in his eye . Quoth he , ' The she - wolf's litter Stand savagely at bay : But will ye dare to follow ...
... Comes with his stately stride . He smiled on those bold Romans A smile serene and high ; He eyed the flinching Tuscans , And scorn was in his eye . Quoth he , ' The she - wolf's litter Stand savagely at bay : But will ye dare to follow ...
Seite 15
... comes next To taste our Roman cheer ? ' But at his haughty challenge A sullen murmur ran , Mingled of wrath , and ... Come to the mouth of the dark lair Where HORATIUS . 15.
... comes next To taste our Roman cheer ? ' But at his haughty challenge A sullen murmur ran , Mingled of wrath , and ... Come to the mouth of the dark lair Where HORATIUS . 15.
Seite 25
... comes about our doors When autumn winds are sobbing ? Art thou the Peter of Norway boors ? Their Thomas in Finland , And Russia far inland ? The bird , that by some name or other , All men who know thee call their brother : The darling ...
... comes about our doors When autumn winds are sobbing ? Art thou the Peter of Norway boors ? Their Thomas in Finland , And Russia far inland ? The bird , that by some name or other , All men who know thee call their brother : The darling ...
Seite 29
... comes to this rock , Will not bless the priest of Aberbrothock . ' Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away , He scour'd the seas for many a day ; And now grown rich with plunder'd store , He steers his course to Scotland's shore . So thick a ...
... comes to this rock , Will not bless the priest of Aberbrothock . ' Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away , He scour'd the seas for many a day ; And now grown rich with plunder'd store , He steers his course to Scotland's shore . So thick a ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Antonio arms Bassanio beautiful beneath birds black crows blade blood bold Boling breast breath bright brow cheer Chevy Chase Clan-Alpine's clouds dark death deep deer doth dread ducats duke of Norfolk Earl Douglas Earl Percy earth fair Farewell fear Fitz-James flesh flowers gallant Gaunt gave gentle glen Gratiano green ground hand haste hath hear heard heart heaven Highlands hill Inchcape rock king lance lark Lars Porsena leaves light look Lord loud Lycidas Mary Howitt morning mountain Mowbray Nerissa nest night Nils Juel numbers o'er Percy poet Portia primrose Rich ring rock Roderick Dhu rose Saxon shalt shout shower Shylock sing skylark smile soar song soul sound spear spring steed stood stream summer sweet sword thee Thomas Mowbray thou art Tirral-la Twas Venice waves wild wind wing winter woods
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 82 - We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow.
Seite 139 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistening with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Seite 73 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Seite 111 - When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, — That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much To mitigate the justice of thy plea; Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. Shylock. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
Seite 102 - YET once more, O ye laurels, and once more Ye myrtles brown, with ivy never sere, I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude, And with forced fingers rude, Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due: For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer.
Seite 103 - Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes, That on the green turf suck the honied showers, And purple all the ground with vernal flowers.
Seite 100 - No war, or battle's sound Was heard the world around : The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstain'd with hostile blood; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.
Seite 95 - Unskilful he to fawn, or seek for power By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour ; Far other aims his heart had learn'd to prize. More bent to raise the wretched than to rise. His house was known to all the vagrant train, He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain...
Seite 158 - When we had given our bodies to the wind, And all the shadowy banks on either side Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still The rapid line of motion, then at once Have I, reclining back upon my heels. Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs Wheeled by me — even as if the earth had rolled With visible motion her diurnal round!
Seite 103 - But, O the heavy change, now thou art gone, Now thou art gone, and never must return ! Thee, Shepherd, thee the woods and desert caves, With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 40 And all their echoes mourn.