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arms army battle blood body breath called cavalry close comes cried crown dark dead death deep enemy English Enter eyes face fall fear fell fire follow force French give guns half hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Henry hill honour hope horse hour Hubert iron John king land light live look Lord means mind morning mountain never night NOTES o'er once passed poor pride Prince rest Ring rising river rock round Russian scene seemed seen ship side sight silence soldiers soon soul sound spirit stand stone sweet tears tell thee things thou thought thousand told took trees turned village voice wave wild wind Winkle young
Seite 72 - A hurry of hoofs in a village street, A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet: That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, The fate of a nation was riding that night; And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
Seite 8 - They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won ; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun : But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. " Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, And our good Prince Eugene." " Why, 'twas a very wicked thing," Said little Wilhelmine. " Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he, " It was a famous victory. " And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." " But what good came of it at last ? " Quoth little Peterkin. "...
Seite 196 - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Seite 297 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?
Seite 101 - 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 ; Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.
Seite 222 - Like a poet hidden In the light of thought, Singing hymns unbidden, Till the world is wrought To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not...
Seite 93 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Seite 298 - All stood amazed, until an old woman, tottering out from among the crowd, put her hand to her brow, and peering under it in his face for a moment, exclaimed : "Sure enough ! It is Rip Van Winkle — it is himself. Welcome home again, old neighbor. Why, where have you been these twenty long years?
Seite 280 - It could not be from the want of assiduity or perseverance ; for he would sit on a wet rock, with a rod as long and heavy as a Tartar's lance, and fish all day without a murmur, even though he should not be encouraged by a single nibble.
Seite 230 - Take thine eyes off the bridge, said he, and tell me if thou yet seest anything thou dost not comprehend. Upon looking up, What mean, said I, those great flights of birds that are perpetually hovering about the bridge, and settling upon it from time to time? I see vultures, harpies, ravens, cormorants, and among many other feathered creatures several little winged boys, that perch in great numbers upon the middle arches.