The Standard authors reader, arranged and annotated by the editor of 'Poetry for the young'. Standard iii, v-vii |
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... Death of John Knox ; to Mr. R. Brown- ing for Home Thoughts from the Sea , and How they brought the Good News ; to Mr. J. Tyndall for The Falls of Niagara , and the Voyage from Portsmouth to Gibraltar ; to Mr. Matthew Arnold for The ...
... Death of John Knox ; to Mr. R. Brown- ing for Home Thoughts from the Sea , and How they brought the Good News ; to Mr. J. Tyndall for The Falls of Niagara , and the Voyage from Portsmouth to Gibraltar ; to Mr. Matthew Arnold for The ...
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... Death , the Leveller , Washington Irving ,. 199 22 99 The Death - Bed of William the Conqueror , E. A. Freeman , PAGE R. Browning , 162 P. H. Gosse , 162 C. Dickens , 165 Q. W. Holmes ,. 176 Sir W. Scott , 178 186 99 R. Southey , 190 T ...
... Death , the Leveller , Washington Irving ,. 199 22 99 The Death - Bed of William the Conqueror , E. A. Freeman , PAGE R. Browning , 162 P. H. Gosse , 162 C. Dickens , 165 Q. W. Holmes ,. 176 Sir W. Scott , 178 186 99 R. Southey , 190 T ...
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... the strong hand of the builder had been arrested in the midst of his task by the stronger hand of death ; and the unfinished fabric stands a lasting monument both of the power and weakness of man - of 54 THE VALLEY OF THE LOIRE .
... the strong hand of the builder had been arrested in the midst of his task by the stronger hand of death ; and the unfinished fabric stands a lasting monument both of the power and weakness of man - of 54 THE VALLEY OF THE LOIRE .
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... death , From dark and icy caverns called you forth , Down those precipitous , black , jaggèd rocks , For ever shattered and the same for ever ? Who gave you your invulnerable life , Your strength , your speed , your fury , and your joy ...
... death , From dark and icy caverns called you forth , Down those precipitous , black , jaggèd rocks , For ever shattered and the same for ever ? Who gave you your invulnerable life , Your strength , your speed , your fury , and your joy ...
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... death ; For he struggles at times to arise , And above him the lurid skies Are hot with his fiery breath . The crags are piled on his breast , The earth is heaped on his head ; But the groans of his wild unrest , Though smothered and ...
... death ; For he struggles at times to arise , And above him the lurid skies Are hot with his fiery breath . The crags are piled on his breast , The earth is heaped on his head ; But the groans of his wild unrest , Though smothered and ...
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Adour appear Arth banks beach beautiful bells beneath Benedicite birds Bracebridge breath Cæsar church clouds colour Crito dark death deep distance E. A. FREEMAN earth Enceladus England English eyes fall feet fire flowers foam French Geysir GILBERT WHITE green hand hath hear heard heart heaven Henry of Navarre hills honour horse Horseshoe Fall hour island king Lake land Latin ledge light look Lord LORD DUFFERIN miles morning mountains nest never night noble Normandy o'er once passed Pilgrim's Progress Pisc precipice prince rising river rock rolling round scarcely seemed seen ship shore side sight silent soul sound Spitzbergen stands stream swallow sweet thee thou towers town trees turned valley Varaville Viat village voice walls WASHINGTON IRVING waves Wetterhorn wild William wind wonderful word
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107 ページ - Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently ! Around thee and above, Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge ! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity ! 0 dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer, I worshipped the Invisible alone.
276 ページ - A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
63 ページ - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
319 ページ - O, now you weep; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity : these are gracious drops. Kind souls, what ! weep you, when you but behold Our Caesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
316 ページ - Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears; I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones ; So let it be with Caesar.
134 ページ - Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once before you go— Call once yet! In a voice that she will know:
19 ページ - tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played : Their thoughts I cannot measure : — But the least motion which they made, It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air ; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there.
110 ページ - Who made you glorious as the gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? — God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God...
49 ページ - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep, Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers; And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep Steady thy laden head across a brook; Or by a cider-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
198 ページ - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest. Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. Th...