The new poetical reader, ed. by J.C. CurtisJohn Charles Curtis 1872 - Readers - 160 pages |
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Page 13
... hands too weak for childhood's game Sport with the falchion's weight ! The beauteous one , -the beauteous one ! In the wide world , I wis , There's many a beauteous thing , but none Of beauty like to this . In youth and age , earth's ...
... hands too weak for childhood's game Sport with the falchion's weight ! The beauteous one , -the beauteous one ! In the wide world , I wis , There's many a beauteous thing , but none Of beauty like to this . In youth and age , earth's ...
Page 16
... hand And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break , break , break , At the foot of thy crags , O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me . THE SANDS OF DEE . - Kingsley . ' O MARY , go and call the ...
... hand And the sound of a voice that is still ! Break , break , break , At the foot of thy crags , O Sea ! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me . THE SANDS OF DEE . - Kingsley . ' O MARY , go and call the ...
Page 20
... hands , For God can give you more . He would that in a ring His blessings should be sent , From living thing to thing , But nowhere staid or spent . And ev'ry soul that takes , But yields not on again , Is so a link that breaks In ...
... hands , For God can give you more . He would that in a ring His blessings should be sent , From living thing to thing , But nowhere staid or spent . And ev'ry soul that takes , But yields not on again , Is so a link that breaks In ...
Page 22
... hand , till fresh they shone and giowed : All this , and more endearing still than all , Thy constant flow of love , that knew no fall , Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks , That humour interposed too often makes ; All this ...
... hand , till fresh they shone and giowed : All this , and more endearing still than all , Thy constant flow of love , that knew no fall , Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks , That humour interposed too often makes ; All this ...
Page 23
... ; For often at noon , when returned from the field , I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure , The purest and sweetest , that nature can yield . How ardent I seized it , with hands that were The New Poetical Reader . 23 THE BUCKET.
... ; For often at noon , when returned from the field , I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure , The purest and sweetest , that nature can yield . How ardent I seized it , with hands that were The New Poetical Reader . 23 THE BUCKET.
Common terms and phrases
Angel Art thou Arth Avés beneath Birkenhead blast blood brave breast breath bright brow calm child Church of Brou cloud Crom Cromwell crown Dalhem Danube dark days of Childhood dead dear death deep dream Duchess earth England eyes F. T. Palgrave fair falchion fear flower gallant galloped giveth His beloved glory golden grace grave hand Hark hath head hear heard heart heaven Her's hill honour Hubert King Robert light look Lord Lucknow mighty mighty heart morning mother mountain Neath never night o'er old oaken bucket pibroch prayer rest rock roll round Saint Andrew's cross Saint Peter's square shalt shine shore shout Sicily sight silence sing sleep smile Somebody's Darling song soul sound strife sweet SWEET day tears thee thine thou art thought thunder thunderpeal tomb trees Valmond voice wave weep wept wild wind
Popular passages
Page 136 - Julius bleed for justice' sake ? What villain touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice ? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers, shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honours For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Than such a Roman.
Page 93 - Ye Ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain — Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! 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,...
Page 138 - I could weep My spirit from mine eyes ! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast; within, a heart Dearer than Plutus...
Page 92 - Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the Vale ! O struggling with the darkness all the night, And visited all night by troops of stars, Or when they climb the sky or when they sink...
Page 24 - That moss-covered vessel I hail as a treasure; For often, at noon, when returned from the field, I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure, The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing 1 And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell ; Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing, And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well — The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.
Page 109 - — and all in a moment his roan Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone ; And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate, With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim, And with circles of red for his eye-sockets
Page 105 - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Page 107 - I SPRANG to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gatebolts undrew ; "Speed...
Page 122 - The sun was gone now ; the curled moon Was like a little feather Fluttering far down the gulf ; and now She spoke through the still weather. Her voice was like the voice the stars Had when they sang together.
Page 70 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...