The poetic reciter; or, Beauties of the British poets: adapted for reading and recitation, in public and private seminaries. Com piled by H. Marlen1838 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 49 találatból.
x. oldal
... Poor & CowPER . the Luxury of the Rich 159 The Raven 26 A Contest between the Nose and the Eyes GRAY . 53 The Infidel and the Christ- An Elegy , written in a Country Churchyard · 241 ian 71 HEBER . Boadicea · 104 The Patriot 115 The ...
... Poor & CowPER . the Luxury of the Rich 159 The Raven 26 A Contest between the Nose and the Eyes GRAY . 53 The Infidel and the Christ- An Elegy , written in a Country Churchyard · 241 ian 71 HEBER . Boadicea · 104 The Patriot 115 The ...
1. oldal
... poor , He begged his bread from door to door ; And tuned , to please a peasant's ear , The harp , a king had loved to hear . He passed where Newark's stately tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : The Minstrel gazed with wishful ...
... poor , He begged his bread from door to door ; And tuned , to please a peasant's ear , The harp , a king had loved to hear . He passed where Newark's stately tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : The Minstrel gazed with wishful ...
2. oldal
... poor , The Duchess marked his weary pace , His timid mien , and reverend face , And bade her page the menials tell , That they should tend the old man well : For she had known adversity , Though born in such a high degree ; In pride of ...
... poor , The Duchess marked his weary pace , His timid mien , and reverend face , And bade her page the menials tell , That they should tend the old man well : For she had known adversity , Though born in such a high degree ; In pride of ...
5. oldal
... Poor foolish child ! how pleased was I , When news of Nelson's victory came , Along the crowded streets to fly , And see the lighted windows flame ! To force me home my mother sought ; She could not bear to see my joy ; For with my ...
... Poor foolish child ! how pleased was I , When news of Nelson's victory came , Along the crowded streets to fly , And see the lighted windows flame ! To force me home my mother sought ; She could not bear to see my joy ; For with my ...
9. oldal
... d in view ! " Let me , " says she , " your back ascend , " And owe my safety to a friend ; " You know my feet betray my flight ; " To friendship every burden's light . The horse reply'd , " poor honest puss , " THE POETIC RECITER . 9.
... d in view ! " Let me , " says she , " your back ascend , " And owe my safety to a friend ; " You know my feet betray my flight ; " To friendship every burden's light . The horse reply'd , " poor honest puss , " THE POETIC RECITER . 9.
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
The Poetic Reciter; Or, Beauties of the British Poets: Adapted for Reading ... Henry Marlen Nincs elérhető előnézet - 2016 |
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
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
Népszerű szakaszok
283. oldal - 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.
274. oldal - 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...
294. oldal - 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...
62. oldal - 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...
285. oldal - 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...
63. oldal - 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.
283. oldal - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world: now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
238. oldal - 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.
238. oldal - 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?
157. oldal - 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.