every boy's annual

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Сторінка 509 - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek and bay, And islands that empurpled bright, Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains, that like giants stand, To sentinel enchanted land.
Сторінка 192 - Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. Hail bounteous May that dost inspire Mirth and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
Сторінка 499 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Сторінка 571 - Where glistening streamers waved and danced, The wanderer's eye could barely view The summer heaven's delicious blue ; So wondrous wild, the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream.
Сторінка 187 - Thy flitting form comes ghostly dim and pale, As driven by a beating storm at sea ; Thy cry is weak and scared, As if thy mates had shared The doom of us : Thy wail — What does it bring to me...
Сторінка 372 - How beautiful she is] How fair She lies within those arms, that press Her form with many a soft caress Of tenderness and watchful care!
Сторінка 126 - But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion, For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion, He sang the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. Sad is my fate...
Сторінка 126 - Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Сторінка 572 - Our life is but a Winter's day — Some only breakfast and away. Others to dinner stay and are full fed, The oldest man but sups, and goes to bed. Large is his debt who lingers out the day : Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.
Сторінка 224 - Christ hath said of the one, that it had been good for him if he had never been born...

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