Collection of Poetry for School ReadingMacmillan Company, 1910 - Всего страниц: 186 |
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Стр. 5
... face us Are beat to earth again ; And they who fly in terror dream A mighty host behind , And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind . 15 20 Then sweet the hour that brings release 25 From danger and from toil : We talk the ...
... face us Are beat to earth again ; And they who fly in terror dream A mighty host behind , And hear the tramp of thousands Upon the hollow wind . 15 20 Then sweet the hour that brings release 25 From danger and from toil : We talk the ...
Стр. 21
... face ; And stop and eat , for well you may Be in a hungry case . ' Said John - ' It is my wedding - day , And all the world would stare , If wife should dine at Edmonton And I should dine at Ware . ' So , turning to his horse , he said ...
... face ; And stop and eat , for well you may Be in a hungry case . ' Said John - ' It is my wedding - day , And all the world would stare , If wife should dine at Edmonton And I should dine at Ware . ' So , turning to his horse , he said ...
Стр. 24
... face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place . I am out of humanity's reach , I must finish my journey alone , Never hear the sweet music of speech , I start at the sound of my own . The beasts that roam ...
... face ? Better dwell in the midst of alarms Than reign in this horrible place . I am out of humanity's reach , I must finish my journey alone , Never hear the sweet music of speech , I start at the sound of my own . The beasts that roam ...
Стр. 28
... a warrior taking his rest , With his martial cloak around him . Few and short were the prayers we said , And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; 5 ΙΟ But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead 28 THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE Wolfe.
... a warrior taking his rest , With his martial cloak around him . Few and short were the prayers we said , And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; 5 ΙΟ But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead 28 THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE Wolfe.
Стр. 29
But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead , 15 And we bitterly thought of the morrow . We thought , as we hollow'd his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow , That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head ...
But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead , 15 And we bitterly thought of the morrow . We thought , as we hollow'd his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow , That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Collection of Poetry for School Reading: Selected and Arranged with Notes Marcus White Недоступно для просмотра - 1899 |
Collection of Poetry for School Reading (Classic Reprint) Marcus White Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
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ALEXANDER SELKIRK ALFRED TENNYSON Allen-a-Dale battle BATTLE OF NASEBY beat bells of Shandon bird blood bold born brave bugle chamber door Charles Kingsley Clusium cried dared death deep drum dying EDGAR ALLAN POE England English eyes fame famous victory father fight fleet forever fought FRANCIS HASTINGS DOYLE gallant galloped Gilpin glorious glory hand hath heard heart heaven Hervé Riel hill Horatius join the brimming King knells land Lars Porsena Lenore Light Brigade Lord loud MICHAEL DRAYTON morn never Nevermore night noble o'er Pilgrim Piper poems poet Quoth the Raven Ring river Lee roar rolling Rome round Shandon Sheridan ship shore shout Sir Richard smiling songs soul sound spake steed stood storm stormy tempests blow sweet swells tell thee THOMAS CAMPBELL thousand thunder TIGER WILLIAM tolling Twas wave wild wind ΙΟ
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Стр. 76 - I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, 25 Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, ' Lenore !
Стр. 180 - At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; Full well the busy whisper, circling round, Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned — Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, The love he bore to learning was in fault.
Стр. 55 - When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, 5 By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array, Far, far, I had roam'd on a desolate track: 10 'Twas
Стр. 105 - twixt my knees on the ground, And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent. 60
Стр. 178 - Far other aims his heart had learned to prize— More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. His house was known to all the vagrant train; He chid their wanderings, but relieved their pain; The long-remembered beggar was his guest,
Стр. 88 - Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O Love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 15 And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. THE BROOK
Стр. 155 - Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 40
Стр. 81 - tell me — tell me, I implore!' Quoth the Raven, ' Nevermore.' 90 ' Prophet!'said I, ' thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore — Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant
Стр. 180 - The village all declared how much he knew; 'Twas certain he could write, and cipher too; Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage — And e'en the story ran that he could gauge; In arguing too, the parson owned his skill,
Стр. 144 - The furious river struggled hard, And tossed his tawny mane, * And burst the curb, and bounded, Rejoicing to be free, And whirling down, in fierce career, 465 Battlement, and plank, and pier, Rushed headlong to the sea. Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind; Thrice thirty thousand foes before,