The beginners' drill-book of English grammar

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Rivingtons, 1878 - 113 pages

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Page 112 - Who steals my purse, steals trash; . . . But he that filches from me my good name, Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.
Page 108 - Here lies our Sovereign Lord the King, Whose word no man relies on ; Who never said a foolish thing, And never did a wise one.
Page 112 - Almighty's mysteries to read In the large volumes of the skies. For the bright firmament Shoots forth no flame So silent, but is eloquent In speaking the Creator's name. No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small a character...
Page 109 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas, your sorrow, is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Page 111 - Dictionary is recommended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour, which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge.
Page 104 - Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war!
Page 76 - Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in summer, Where they hid themselves in winter, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens.
Page 112 - His praise due paid: for swinish Gluttony Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast ; But with besotted, base ingratitude, Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder.
Page 111 - It is the most transcendent privilege which any subject can enjoy or wish for, that he cannot be affected either in his property, his liberty, or his person, but by the unanimous consent of twelve of his neighbors and equals.
Page 88 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to...

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