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The Historical Reader: Embracing Selections from Standard Writers of Ancient ...
John J. Anderson
Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2017
The Historical Reader: Embracing Selections From Standard Writers of Ancient ...
John J. Anderson
Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018
appeared arms army battle became blood body brought called carried cause character charge chief close command dead death Duke effect enemies England English event execution eyes fall father fear fell field fire force France French friends gave give given gold hand head heard heart honor hope hour human hundred Indians Italy king land length light lived look Lord marched means mind nature never night officers passed Persian person prepared present prince queen reached received remained river Roman round seemed sent ship shore side soldiers soon spirit success taken thou thought thousand throne tion took troops turned vessel walls whole
Сторінка 362 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes.
Сторінка 74 - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came ; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear; They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Сторінка 104 - Peace, peace! — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God ! I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
Сторінка 373 - Kent. Vex not his ghost. O, let him pass! He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.
Сторінка 362 - The foe! They come! They come!" And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: — How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Сторінка 295 - ... a custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible Stygian smoke of the pit that is bottomless.
Сторінка 334 - ... little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honour and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone!
Сторінка 363 - 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.
Сторінка 111 - We may not live to the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die colonists ; die slaves ; die, it may be, ignominiously and on the scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of heaven that my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country.
Сторінка 256 - Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the Golden Lilies now — upon them with the lance ! A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snowwhite crest; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.