Poetical reader suitable for the fourth standard of elementary schools, selected and arranged with explanatory notes by J. BoothJames Booth (head master of the Caledonian schools, Liverpool) 1881 |
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Página 16
... looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song , Or childish tale is told ; Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page of old . The cottage homes of England ! By thousands on her plains ...
... looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song , Or childish tale is told ; Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page of old . The cottage homes of England ! By thousands on her plains ...
Página 21
... look'd smiling bright O'er a wide and woful sight , Where the fires of funeral light Died away . Now joy , old England , raise ! For the tidings of thy might , By the festal cities ' blaze , While the wine - cup shines in light ; And ...
... look'd smiling bright O'er a wide and woful sight , Where the fires of funeral light Died away . Now joy , old England , raise ! For the tidings of thy might , By the festal cities ' blaze , While the wine - cup shines in light ; And ...
Página 53
... looks of love , The matron's glance that would those looks reprove . These were thy charms , sweet village ! sports like these , With sweet succession , taught even toil to please ; These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed ...
... looks of love , The matron's glance that would those looks reprove . These were thy charms , sweet village ! sports like these , With sweet succession , taught even toil to please ; These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed ...
Página 55
... . him ? ' -- No : Have we passed Look , a little growing heap - snow above the snow— While heavy on his heavy sleep down fell the snow Strong hands raised him - voices strong spoke within his THE ROAD TO THE TRENCHES . 55.
... . him ? ' -- No : Have we passed Look , a little growing heap - snow above the snow— While heavy on his heavy sleep down fell the snow Strong hands raised him - voices strong spoke within his THE ROAD TO THE TRENCHES . 55.
Página 69
... the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat , He earns whate'er he can , And looks the whole world in the face , For he owes not any man , Wit Week in , week out , from morn till night. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH . 69 Longfellow.
... the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat , He earns whate'er he can , And looks the whole world in the face , For he owes not any man , Wit Week in , week out , from morn till night. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH . 69 Longfellow.
Términos y frases comunes
Absalom ancient Assyria battle BATTLE OF HOHENLINDEN beautiful beneath blaze blood blow born bosom brave breast breath bright brother brow Brutus burning Cæsar Cassius cold cried dark dead death deep died doth drum earth England ever-never eyes face fair farewell father fire flame fleet gallant grave hand hath hear heard heart heaven hill honourable Horatius JAMES MERRICK John Milton king land Lars Porsena light Lochinvar look Lord Lord Byron loud morn mourn N. P. WILLIS Netherby never night o'er once pale poems poet pray pride proud quoth Rebecs roar rolling Romans Rome round sail SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ships silent Skiddaw sleep smile snow Somebody's soon sorrow soul sound Southey spake spear steed stood storm Sudorifics sweet tear tell thee thine thought thunderstrike Twas voice waves weep wild winds young Lochinvar
Pasajes populares
Página 31 - And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.
Página 182 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull Night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled Dawn doth rise...
Página 175 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.
Página 53 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
Página 125 - Sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness...
Página 118 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap. Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Página 158 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Página 211 - Form! Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, How silently! Around thee and above Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, An ebon mass: methinks thou piercest it, As with a wedge! But when I look again, It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, Thy habitation from eternity! 0 dread and silent Mount! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 1 worshipped the Invisible alone.
Página 96 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorn'd the venerable place ; Truth from his lips prevail'd with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain'd to pray.
Página 106 - An honest man's the noblest work of God;' And certes, in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind; What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refin'd!