The Struggle for Sea Power, Book IV of the Story of the World

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Cosimo, Inc., 1 січ. 2013 р. - 248 стор.
"Covers the history of the world from the American Revolution to Waterloo--from 1745-1815--and includes tales of: the black hole of Calcutta; George Washington, solider and patriot; how Pitt saved England; The Declaration of Independence and much more."--Cover back.

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Сторінка 170 - I hope the people of England will be satisfied!" "I hope my country will do me justice!
Сторінка 170 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Сторінка 130 - May the great God whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory, and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British fleet!
Сторінка 142 - Where he greatly stood at bay, Whence he issued forth anew, And ever great and greater grew, Beating from the wasted vines Back to France...
Сторінка 166 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Сторінка 25 - Resolved, That a committee, in conjunction with one from the Senate, be appointed to consider on the most suitable manner of paying honor to the memory of the man, first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-citizens.
Сторінка 23 - Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of celestial fire, called conscience.
Сторінка 170 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow, But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Сторінка 139 - Burke, moved even to tears, exclaimed, "It is not a chip of the old block; it is the old block itself.

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