On the Wing

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M.E. Church, 1896 - 312 стор.
 

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Сторінка 250 - Divina Commedia is one of the landmarks of history. More than a magnificent poem, more than the beginning of a language and the opening of a national literature, more than the inspirer of art and the glory of a great people...
Сторінка 283 - Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise : and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding.
Сторінка 244 - ... and a victim without murmuring. He was a public officer without vices; a private citizen without wrong; a neighbor without reproach; a Christian without hypocrisy, and a man without guile. He was Caesar, without his ambition; Frederick, without his tyranny; Napoleon, without his selfishness, and Washington, without his reward.
Сторінка 244 - He was a foe without hate, a friend without treachery, a soldier without cruelty, a victor without oppression, and a victim without murmuring. He was a public officer without vices, a private citizen without wrong, a neighbor without reproach, a Christian without hypocrisy, and a man without guile.
Сторінка 244 - ... high toward Heaven to catch its summit. He possessed every virtue of other great commanders without their vices. He was a foe without hate; a friend without treachery; a soldier without cruelty; a victor without oppression, and a victim without murmuring. He was...
Сторінка 288 - Give us a song!" the soldiers cried, The outer trenches guarding, When the heated guns of the camps allied Grew weary of bombarding. The dark Redan, in silent scoff, Lay grim and threatening, under ; And the tawny mound of the Malakoff No longer belched its thunder. There was a pause. A guardsman said: " We storm the forts to.morrow ; Sing while we may, another day...
Сторінка 236 - The Hill I first saw the Sun rise over, when the Sun. and I and all things were yet in their auroral hour, who can divorce me from it ? Mystic, deep as the world's centre, are the roots I have struck into my Native Soil ; no tree that grows is rooted so.
Сторінка 145 - With the scourge she lashed the steeds, And not unwillingly they flew between Earth and the starry heaven. As much of space As one who gazes on the dark blue deep Sees from the headland summit where he sits — Such space the coursers of immortal breed Cleared at each bound they made with sounding hoofs ; And when they came to Ilium and its streams.
Сторінка 144 - Upon the horses. Hebe rolled the wheels, Each with eight spokes, and joined them to the ends Of the steel axle, — fellies wrought of gold, Bound with a brazen rim to last for aye, — A wonder to behold. The hollow naves...
Сторінка 250 - More than a magnificent poem, more than the beginning of a language and the opening of a national literature, more than the inspirer of art and the glory of a great people, it is one of those rare and solemn monuments of the mind's power which measure and test what it can reach to, which rise up ineffaceably and forever as time goes on marking out its advance by grander divisions than its centuries, and adopted as epochs by the consent of all who come after.

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