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ancient appear arms battle bear beautiful beneath blood Book bound breath bright called cloth clouds College comes dark death deep earth Edition English Erle Exercises fair fall fear feet flowers follow France gave give glory Grammar grave Greek green hand hath head hear heart heaven Henry hill History honourable hour Italy John king land Latin leaves LESSON light living lonely look Lord Master morning mountain never night Notes o'er once pass Percy praise rest rise rocks rolling Roman Rome rose round Schools seen shore side silent smiles song soul sound speak spread spring stars stood streams sweet thee thine thing thou thought tree voice waves wild wings wood young
Strona 102 - tis his will : Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issue.
Strona 26 - Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky, or gray, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honour to the world's great Author rise...
Strona 83 - tis nought to me : Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste as in the city full ; And where He vital breathes, there must be joy.
Strona 69 - O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours ! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have; And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
Strona 120 - No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank, But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank ; And when above the surges They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer.
Strona 36 - WHEN the British warrior queen. Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods. Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief ; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief.
Strona 37 - 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...
Strona 91 - God, and fill the hills with praise! Thou too, hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast Thou too again, stupendous Mountain!
Strona 70 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!