Seventh Reader

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American Book Company, 1911 - Readers - 258 pages

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Page 91 - Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts; Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals and forts.
Page 255 - This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Page 193 - Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind, the Gates of Hercules ; Before him not the ghost of shores ; Before him only shoreless seas. The good mate said, "Now must we pray, For lo ! the very stars are gone. Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?
Page 145 - Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.
Page 251 - O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Page 116 - She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — • ' Now tread we a measure !
Page 117 - I'm the chief of Ulva's Isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps...
Page 212 - I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; " Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;
Page 114 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none, He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
Page 119 - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father." The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her — When, oh ! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her.

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