The new poetical reader, ed. by J.C. CurtisJohn Charles Curtis 1872 - Readers - 160 pages |
From inside the book
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Page 12
... stand Surrounds me like a dream . Alas the real never lent Those tints , too bright to last ; They fade , and bid me rest content And let the past be past . The wave that dances to the breast Of earth , can ne'er be stay'd ; The star ...
... stand Surrounds me like a dream . Alas the real never lent Those tints , too bright to last ; They fade , and bid me rest content And let the past be past . The wave that dances to the breast Of earth , can ne'er be stay'd ; The star ...
Page 27
... made ; Till at length the burden seems Greater than our strength can bear ; Heavy as the weight of dreams , Pressing on us everywhere . And we stand from day to day , Like the The New Poetical Reader . 27 FAREWELL SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE.
... made ; Till at length the burden seems Greater than our strength can bear ; Heavy as the weight of dreams , Pressing on us everywhere . And we stand from day to day , Like the The New Poetical Reader . 27 FAREWELL SOMETHING LEFT UNDONE.
Page 28
John Charles Curtis. And we stand from day to day , Like the dwarfs of times gone by , Who , as Northern legends say , On their shoulders held the sky . THE BURIAL OF MOSES . — Mrs . C. F. Alexander . By Nebo's lonely mountain , On this ...
John Charles Curtis. And we stand from day to day , Like the dwarfs of times gone by , Who , as Northern legends say , On their shoulders held the sky . THE BURIAL OF MOSES . — Mrs . C. F. Alexander . By Nebo's lonely mountain , On this ...
Page 29
... stand with glory wrapt around , On the hills he never trod , And speak of the strife , that won our life , With the Incarnate Son of God . O lonely grave in Moab's land ! O dark Beth The New Poetical Reader . 29 ALMA Page.
... stand with glory wrapt around , On the hills he never trod , And speak of the strife , that won our life , With the Incarnate Son of God . O lonely grave in Moab's land ! O dark Beth The New Poetical Reader . 29 ALMA Page.
Page 39
... stand beside my knee- I hear the river roaring down Towards the wintry sea . There's shouting on the mountain side , There's war within the blast- Old faces look upon me , Old forms go trooping past . I hear the pibroch wailing Amidst ...
... stand beside my knee- I hear the river roaring down Towards the wintry sea . There's shouting on the mountain side , There's war within the blast- Old faces look upon me , Old forms go trooping past . I hear the pibroch wailing Amidst ...
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...