A Rhetorical Grammar of the English Language

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J.M. Bradstreet & Son, 1870 - 396 oldal
 

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389. oldal - My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain, Whose constant cares were to increase his store, And keep his only son, myself, at home.
274. oldal - As sparks mount upward from the fiery blaze, So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from Thee, And as the spangles in the sunny rays Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.
152. oldal - Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.
223. oldal - In the corrupted currents of this world Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; There is no shuffling, there the action lies In his true nature, and we ourselves compell'd Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults To give in evidence.
122. oldal - Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; and let thy widows trust in me.
151. oldal - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
149. oldal - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
139. oldal - Philosophers assert, that nature is unlimited in her operations ; that she has inexhaustible treasures in reserve ; that knowledge will always be progressive ; and that all future generations will continue to make discoveries, of which we have not the least idea.
152. oldal - He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.
141. oldal - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest With all their country's wishes blest?

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