The book of recitations [ed.] by C.W. Smith |
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Page 5
... spake the daughter in tender emotion— " Ah ! father , my father , what more can there rest ? Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean— He has served thee as none would , thyself hast confest . If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of ...
... spake the daughter in tender emotion— " Ah ! father , my father , what more can there rest ? Enough of this sport with the pitiless ocean— He has served thee as none would , thyself hast confest . If nothing can slake thy wild thirst of ...
Page 7
... spake the Consul ' roundly : " The bridge must straight go down ; For , since Janiculum ' is lost , Nought else can save the town . " 1 Valerius Publicola . 2 One of the hills of Rome , from which it was separated by the Tiber . Porsena ...
... spake the Consul ' roundly : " The bridge must straight go down ; For , since Janiculum ' is lost , Nought else can save the town . " 1 Valerius Publicola . 2 One of the hills of Rome , from which it was separated by the Tiber . Porsena ...
Page 8
... spake Spurius Lartius ; A Ramnian3 proud was he : “ Lo , I will stand at thy right hand , And keep the bridge with thee . " And out spake strong Herminius ; Of Tatian blood was he : " I will abide on thy left side , And keep the bridge ...
... spake Spurius Lartius ; A Ramnian3 proud was he : “ Lo , I will stand at thy right hand , And keep the bridge with thee . " And out spake strong Herminius ; Of Tatian blood was he : " I will abide on thy left side , And keep the bridge ...
Page 12
... spake he to Lars Porsena , To Sextus nought spake he ; But he saw on Palatinus The white porch of his home ; And he spake to the noble river 66 That rolls by the towers of Rome : Oh , Tiber ! Father Tiber ! To whom the Romans pray , A ...
... spake he to Lars Porsena , To Sextus nought spake he ; But he saw on Palatinus The white porch of his home ; And he spake to the noble river 66 That rolls by the towers of Rome : Oh , Tiber ! Father Tiber ! To whom the Romans pray , A ...
Page 41
... spake the grisly terror , and in shape , So speaking and so threatening , grew ten - fold More dreadful and deformed : on the other side , Incensed with indignation , Satan stood Unterrified , and like a comet burned , That fires the ...
... spake the grisly terror , and in shape , So speaking and so threatening , grew ten - fold More dreadful and deformed : on the other side , Incensed with indignation , Satan stood Unterrified , and like a comet burned , That fires the ...
Expressions et termes fréquents
Absalom arms battle beauty beneath blood bosom bowed brave breast breath bright brother brow Cæsar clouds cold cried customed hill dark dead death deep dread dream earth Eleonora di Toledo EUGENE ARAM fair falchion father fear fell gazed Gelert gold grave hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hour Inchcape Rock Jaspar Julius Cæsar king knew Lars Porsena light lips live Lochiel lonely look Lord William loud Macgregor moon morn never Nevermore night numbers o'er once pale pride proud Quoth Quoth the Raven rock rose round Samian wine sate shone shore shout sigh silent slave sleep smile song soul Souliotes sound spake spirit steed stood stream strong sweet sword tears Thaïs thee thine thou thought Twas victorious bands voice wave weary weep wild wind young youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 211 - Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Page 130 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird, or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 275 - O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Page 19 - Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Page 282 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Page 260 - Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.
Page 63 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 278 - tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.
Page 274 - This is the state of man : To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Page 210 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.