Ballads of Battle and BraveryHarper, 1879 - 153 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 11 találatból.
31. oldal
... wild one yelled When the lion he beheld ; And , bristling at the look , With his tail his sides he strook , And rolled his rabid tongue ; In many a wary ring He swept round the forest king , With a fell and rattling sound ; And laid him ...
... wild one yelled When the lion he beheld ; And , bristling at the look , With his tail his sides he strook , And rolled his rabid tongue ; In many a wary ring He swept round the forest king , With a fell and rattling sound ; And laid him ...
32. oldal
... wild - cats on the spot , From the blood - thirst , wroth and hot , Halted still ! Now from the balcony above A snowy hand let fall a glove : Midway between the beasts of prey , Lion and tiger ; there it lay , The winsome lady's glove ...
... wild - cats on the spot , From the blood - thirst , wroth and hot , Halted still ! Now from the balcony above A snowy hand let fall a glove : Midway between the beasts of prey , Lion and tiger ; there it lay , The winsome lady's glove ...
34. oldal
... Wild with a great alarm ; Trembling , with haste she binds her broidered kerchief About the other's arm , Whose gaze is bent on her in tender pity , 34 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY . Charles Kingsley MILLAIS'S "HUGUENOTS" Anonymous ...
... Wild with a great alarm ; Trembling , with haste she binds her broidered kerchief About the other's arm , Whose gaze is bent on her in tender pity , 34 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY . Charles Kingsley MILLAIS'S "HUGUENOTS" Anonymous ...
36. oldal
... wild voice interrupts him , " This is no open strife . Have you not often dreamt a nobler warfare In which to spend your life ? " Oh , for my sake - though but for my sake - wear it ! Think what my life would be If you , who gave it ...
... wild voice interrupts him , " This is no open strife . Have you not often dreamt a nobler warfare In which to spend your life ? " Oh , for my sake - though but for my sake - wear it ! Think what my life would be If you , who gave it ...
50. oldal
... wild halloo , And a hundred steeds are masterless , since his first bugle blew ! From front to flank the Irish charge , in battle order all , While pent like sheep in shepherd's fold the Saxon riders fall ; Their lances long are little ...
... wild halloo , And a hundred steeds are masterless , since his first bugle blew ! From front to flank the Irish charge , in battle order all , While pent like sheep in shepherd's fold the Saxon riders fall ; Their lances long are little ...
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50 cents ALTENAHR banner Barnwell baron battle blood bold brave breath bride captain Clementina Black Cloth comrades cried dead death deck Douglas drum earth English eyes fair fell fierce fight fire fled fleet Flynn Fontenoy fought gallant George Eliot glory guns hand HARPER & BROTHERS hath head heard heart Hervé Riel horse Irish King knight Lochinvar look Lord James Lord Macaulay loud Mary Cecil Hay Moor Mullingar Netherby never noble O'Conor o'er Oliver OLIVER GOLDSMITH Paper proud Published by HARPER quoth Rhine ride roar rode rose round rushed Saint Samuel Johnson ship shout Sir Nicholas Sir Richard Sir Richard Grenville smile soldier Spain Spanish spur steeds stood sword tears tell thee thou thunder tread Trimleston Twas Tyrrell Tyrrell's Pass Waiting the judgment-day Walter Besant wave Wilkie Collins WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED wounded young Lochinvar
Népszerű szakaszok
18. oldal - River where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Nethe'rby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For. a laggard in love and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
75. oldal - So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore!
35. oldal - And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, "We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men!
89. oldal - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
72. oldal - On the sombre rafters, that round him made Masses and moving shapes of shade, — By the trembling ladder, steep and tall, To the highest window in the wall, Where he paused to listen and look down A moment on the roofs of the town And the moonlight flowing over all.
118. oldal - The heroes' sepulchre. Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead! Dear as the blood ye gave; No impious footstep here shall tread The herbage of your grave; Nor shall your glory be forgot While Fame her record keeps, Or Honor points the hallowed spot Where Valor proudly sleeps. Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone In deathless song shall tell, When many a vanished age hath flown, The story how ye fell; Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight, Nor Time's remorseless doom.
46. oldal - TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field ; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more.
71. oldal - If the British march By land or sea from the town tonight, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,— One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country folk to be up and to arm.
10. oldal - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand or freeman fa', Let him follow me!
74. oldal - He has left the village and mounted the steep, And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; And under the alders that skirt its edge, Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.