The poetic reciter; or, Beauties of the British poets: adapted for reading and recitation, in public and private seminaries. Com piled by H. Marlen1838 |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 23.
Strana 4
... feel the breeze down Ettricke break , Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lay my head by Teviot stone , Though there , forgotten and alone , The Bard may draw his parting groan . THE ORPHAN BOY . STAY , Lady , stay , for mercy's ...
... feel the breeze down Ettricke break , Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lay my head by Teviot stone , Though there , forgotten and alone , The Bard may draw his parting groan . THE ORPHAN BOY . STAY , Lady , stay , for mercy's ...
Strana 11
... feel ' tis a hardship indeed to be poor , While I shrink from the labour no longer endear'd , And sigh as I knock at the wealthy man's door . Then , alas ! when at night I returned to my home , No longer I boast that my comforts are ...
... feel ' tis a hardship indeed to be poor , While I shrink from the labour no longer endear'd , And sigh as I knock at the wealthy man's door . Then , alas ! when at night I returned to my home , No longer I boast that my comforts are ...
Strana 28
... feel the chilling wound of death ! " Since I must bid the world adieu , " Let me my former life review . " I grant my bargains were well made , " But all men over - reach in trade ; " Tis self - defence in each profession : " 28 THE ...
... feel the chilling wound of death ! " Since I must bid the world adieu , " Let me my former life review . " I grant my bargains were well made , " But all men over - reach in trade ; " Tis self - defence in each profession : " 28 THE ...
Strana 35
... feel its agonies ; Poor helpless victim ! And will no one save ? Will no one snatch thee from the threat'ning grave ? Is there no friendly hand , no helper nigh ? And must thou , little struggler , must thou die ? Thou shalt not , while ...
... feel its agonies ; Poor helpless victim ! And will no one save ? Will no one snatch thee from the threat'ning grave ? Is there no friendly hand , no helper nigh ? And must thou , little struggler , must thou die ? Thou shalt not , while ...
Strana 49
... feel her heart - blood curdle cold ; Again the rough wind hurried by- It blew off the hat of the one , and behold ! Even close to the feet of poor Mary it rolled ; - She fell and expected to die ! --- " Plague the hat ! " he exclaims ...
... feel her heart - blood curdle cold ; Again the rough wind hurried by- It blew off the hat of the one , and behold ! Even close to the feet of poor Mary it rolled ; - She fell and expected to die ! --- " Plague the hat ! " he exclaims ...
Iné vydania - Zobraziť všetky
Časté výrazy a frázy
arms behold Belshazzar beneath beneath the sky black crows blessed blest bosom breast breath bright brow Brutus Cæsar clouds cold cried dark dead dear death deep dread dream earth eternal fair fame fate father fear fire flame flowers gazed Gelert glory glow grave Greece hand harp hast hath hear heard heart Heaven hope hour life's light lisp live Lochiel Lochinvar lonely look Lord Lyre Macgregor maid morn mother mourn ne'er Netherby never night numbers o'er pale poor praise pride proud rapture rill round scene seraph shade shore sigh silent sleep smile sorrow soul sound spirit Star of Bethlehem stood storm stream sweet sword tear tempest thee thine thou thought thunder Tis green Tom Long trembling Twas voice wandering waves weep wild wind wings young youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 283 - When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man.
Strana 274 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear In all my miseries ; but thou hast forced me, Out of thy honest truth, to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes : and thus far hear me, Cromwell ; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
Strana 294 - No traveller returns, puzzles the will And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Strana 62 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place...
Strana 285 - 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: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood...
Strana 63 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to Virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt, for all. And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Strana 283 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Strana 238 - Night, sable goddess ! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world. Silence how dead! and darkness how profound! Nor eye nor listening ear an object finds ; Creation sleeps. 'Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause ; An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
Strana 238 - The bell strikes one. We take no note of time, But from its loss. To give it then a tongue Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke, I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, It is the, knell of my departed hours : Where are they?
Strana 157 - And e'en the bare-worn common is denied. If to the city sped — What waits him there? To see profusion that he must not share ; To see ten thousand baneful arts combined To pamper luxury, and thin mankind ; To see each joy the sons of pleasure know, Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe.