George Riddle's Readings

W.H. Baker and Company, 1888 - 197 páginas

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Página 177 - The cataract strong Then plunges along, Striking and raging As if a war waging Its caverns and rocks among; Rising and leaping, Sinking and creeping, Swelling and sweeping, Showering and springing, Flying and flinging, Writhing and wringing, Eddying and whisking, Spouting and frisking, Turning and twisting Around and around With endless rebound: Smiting and fighting, A sight to delight in; Confounding, astounding, Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Página 196 - My plans That soar, to earth may fall. Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall " — Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew A rider, bound on bound Full-galloping ; nor bridle drew Until he reached the mound.
Página 180 - All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
Página 154 - Of lonely folk cut off unseen, And hid in sudden graves; Of horrid stabs in groves forlorn, And murders done in caves; And how the sprites of injured men Shriek upward from the sod...
Página 179 - And falling and brawling and sprawling, And driving and riving and striving, And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling, And sounding...
Página 155 - One that had never done me wrong, A feeble man and old: I led him to a lonely field; The moon shone clear and cold: Now here, said I, this man shall die, And I will have his gold!
Página 181 - There are gains for all our losses, There are balms for all our pain; But when youth, the dream, departs, It takes something from our hearts, And it never comes again.
Página 153 - Then leaping on his feet upright, Some moody turns he took, — Now up the mead, then down the mead, And past a shady nook, — And, lo! he saw a little boy That pored upon a book.
Página 197 - The Marshal's in the market-place, And you'll be there anon To see your flag-bird flap his vans Where I, to heart's desire, Perched him ! " The chief's eye flashed ; his plans Soared up again like fire.
Página 155 - And now, from forth the frowning sky, From the heaven's topmost height, I heard a voice, — the awful voice Of the blood-avenging sprite: 'Thou guilty man! take up thy dead, And hide it from my sight...

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