Choice Literature: ... for Grammar Grades, Book 2Butler, Shelton, 1898 - Readers |
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Page 65
... Follow the seamew's flight , Why did they leave that night Her nest unguarded ? " Scarce had I put to sea , Bearing the maid with me , - F Fairest of all was she Among the Norsemen , When , on the white sea strand Waving his arméd hand ...
... Follow the seamew's flight , Why did they leave that night Her nest unguarded ? " Scarce had I put to sea , Bearing the maid with me , - F Fairest of all was she Among the Norsemen , When , on the white sea strand Waving his arméd hand ...
Page 74
... Follows the water drops Down to the graves of the dead , Down through chasms and gulfs profound , To the dreary fountain head Of lakes and rivers under ground ; And sees them , when the rain is done , On the bridge of colors seven ...
... Follows the water drops Down to the graves of the dead , Down through chasms and gulfs profound , To the dreary fountain head Of lakes and rivers under ground ; And sees them , when the rain is done , On the bridge of colors seven ...
Page 111
... Stands savagely at bay ; But will ye dare to follow If Astur clears the way ? " Then , whirling up his broadsword . With both hands to the height , He rushed against Horatius And smote with all his might HORATIUS 111.
... Stands savagely at bay ; But will ye dare to follow If Astur clears the way ? " Then , whirling up his broadsword . With both hands to the height , He rushed against Horatius And smote with all his might HORATIUS 111.
Page 141
... 'er the bed , Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead . So soon may I follow , When friendships decay , And from Love's shining circle The gems drop away ! When true hearts lie withered THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER 141 Thomas Moore.
... 'er the bed , Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead . So soon may I follow , When friendships decay , And from Love's shining circle The gems drop away ! When true hearts lie withered THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER 141 Thomas Moore.
Page 142
... follow . He was an inti- mate friend of Joseph Rodman Drake , and together they wrote the " Croaker " papers , a series of clever satires . T midnight , in his guarded tent , AT The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece , her knee ...
... follow . He was an inti- mate friend of Joseph Rodman Drake , and together they wrote the " Croaker " papers , a series of clever satires . T midnight , in his guarded tent , AT The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece , her knee ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alba Longa Alice Cary Antony arms army Bass Bassanio battle Battle of Waterloo beneath blood blow Blücher Boisberthelot breast breath Brutus Cæsar cannon carronade Casca Cassius cavalry clouds Clusium cuirassiers dark dead death doth ducats earth English Enter Exeunt Exit eyes father fear fire forever Genappe Gilliatt give gunner hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven honor Horatius horse Jessica Julius Cæsar Lars Porsena Laun Launcelot light live look lord Lorenzo Lucius Mark Antony Messala Napoleon Nerissa never night noble o'er octopus Portia pray Prince rain Ramoth ring Roman Rome round sabers Salar seemed shout Shylock smile soul sound speak spirit stand stood sweet sword tell thee thine things THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY thought thousand Titinius to-day turn voice waves weather wind
Popular passages
Page 323 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither, Can in a moment travel thither, And see the Children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Page 235 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty; and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware.
Page 329 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, 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. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye ; I feel my heart new open'd. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes...
Page 326 - Love thyself last : cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's ; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.
Page 193 - 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 valor, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.
Page 408 - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Page 466 - tis his will: Let but the commons hear this testament — Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read — And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood ; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue.
Page 327 - His youthful hose, well sav'd, a world too wide For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Page 469 - I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, That love my friend ; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood : I only speak right on : I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths...
Page 248 - For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care: No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke : How jocund did they drive their team afield ! How...