Cobb's New Sequel to the Juvenile Readers, Or, Fourth Reading Book: Containing a Selection of Interesting, Historical, Moral, and Instructive Reading Lessons in Prose and Poetry from Highly Esteemed American and English Writers, in which All the Words in the First Reading Lesson Not Contained in Any Reading Lesson in the Three Juvenile Readers, and All New Words in Each Subsequent Reading Lesson Throughout the Book, are Placed Before It, with the Division, Pronunciation, Accentuation, Both Primary and Secondary Accent, and Definition Noted, and the Part of Speech Designated : Designed for the Use of Higher Classes in School and Academies, and to Impress the Minds of Youth with Sentiments of Virtue and Religion : Also an Appendix, Containing a Class of Words of Variable Orthography and Words of Variable Pronunciation, and Quotations from Other Languages
Caleb Bartlett, 1845 - 240 стор.
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Сторінка 119 - Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery ! Our chains are forged ; their clanking may be heard on the plains of Boston! The war is inevitable — and let it come! I repeat it, sir, let it come! It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry, Peace, peace; but there is no peace.
Сторінка 199 - I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat ; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, " Logan is the friend of white men.
Сторінка 199 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it: I have killed many: I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country, I rejoice at the beams of peace : but do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Сторінка 119 - There is a just God, who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the vigilant, the active, the brave.
Сторінка 212 - There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow, serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine ? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God.
Сторінка 122 - ... repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death; all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs which you then saw filled with wives and...
Сторінка 119 - Gentlemen may cry 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...
Сторінка 190 - Never hear the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain , My form with indifference see; They are so unacquainted with man , Their tameness is shocking to me. Society, friendship, and love, Divinely bestowed upon man , Oh , had I the wings of a dove , How soon would I taste you again! My sorrows I then might assuage In the ways of religion and truth, Might learn from the wisdom of age, And be cheered by the sallies of youth.
Сторінка 211 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free! The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam; And the rocking pines of the forest roared — This was their welcome home!
Сторінка 191 - How fleet is a glance of the mind ! Compared with the speed of its flight, The tempest itself lags behind, And the swift-winged arrows of light. When I think of my own native land, In a moment I seem to be there ; But alas ! recollection at hand Soon hurries me back to despair.