The National Preceptor: Or, Selections in Prose and Poetry: Consisting of Narrative, Descriptive, Argumentative, Didactic, Pathetic, and Humorous Pieces; Together with Dialogues, Addresses, Orations, Speeches. &c. Calculated to Improve the Scholar in Reading and Speaking; and to Impress the Minds of Youth with Sentiments of Piety and Virtue. Designed for the Use of Schools and AcademiesPratt, Woodford, Farmer, and Brace, 1854 - 324 стор. |
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Сторінка 12
... Kings , Shakspeare . 285 145. Darkness , 148. Cassius instigating Brutus , Byron . 286 291 Shakspeare . 294 · 296 298 299 300 Khemnitzer . 301 Byron . 302 158. The Inhumanity of Slavery , 157. Wisdom , 159. The Cuckoo , 160. The Star of ...
... Kings , Shakspeare . 285 145. Darkness , 148. Cassius instigating Brutus , Byron . 286 291 Shakspeare . 294 · 296 298 299 300 Khemnitzer . 301 Byron . 302 158. The Inhumanity of Slavery , 157. Wisdom , 159. The Cuckoo , 160. The Star of ...
Сторінка 15
... king's palace by mistake , as thinking it to be a public inn , or caravansary . Having looked * For - a - ging , collecting food for horses . Dervis , a Turkish Priest . † Pronounced Beerd . A country in Asia . about him for some time ...
... king's palace by mistake , as thinking it to be a public inn , or caravansary . Having looked * For - a - ging , collecting food for horses . Dervis , a Turkish Priest . † Pronounced Beerd . A country in Asia . about him for some time ...
Сторінка 16
... king himself passed through the gal- lery during this debate , and smiling at the mistake of the Dervis , asked him ... king replied , " my ancestors . ' " And who , " says the Dervis , " was the last person that lodged here ? " The king ...
... king himself passed through the gal- lery during this debate , and smiling at the mistake of the Dervis , asked him ... king replied , " my ancestors . ' " And who , " says the Dervis , " was the last person that lodged here ? " The king ...
Сторінка 19
... king of Prussia , having rung his bell one day , and nobody answering , opened the door where his servant was usually in waiting , and found him asleep on a sofa . He was going to awake him , when he perceived the end of a billet , or ...
... king of Prussia , having rung his bell one day , and nobody answering , opened the door where his servant was usually in waiting , and found him asleep on a sofa . He was going to awake him , when he perceived the end of a billet , or ...
Сторінка 22
... king to death . Goffe , Whalley , and Dix well , were three of the judges who condemned to death Charles I. king of Great Britain , 1648. They afterwards fled to America . + Hadley , a town in Massachusetts , on the east bank of ...
... king to death . Goffe , Whalley , and Dix well , were three of the judges who condemned to death Charles I. king of Great Britain , 1648. They afterwards fled to America . + Hadley , a town in Massachusetts , on the east bank of ...
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army battle battle of Zama beauty black crows blood born Bowl brave Calais Capt Cesar Charlestown Christmas Evans command cried dark dead death dervis died earth endeavored enemy English eyes father fear fire Gelert give glory Goody grave ground hand happy hath head hear heard heart Heaven hill honor hour Jerusalem Jews John Elias Jugurtha king LESSON live look Lord master Mercy mind miserable morning mountain never night o'er Ortogrul passed passion Persian Empire pleasure Pompey poor pray Pronounced redout replied returned rich Roman Rome Romulus and Remus Sir Rob slave sleep smile Socrates soldiers soon soul spirit sweet tears Tell temple thee thine thing thou art thou hast thought thousand Titus truth turned twas uncle Toby virtue voice wise words young youth
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Сторінка 158 - Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere, Heaven did a recompense as largely send: He gave to Misery all he had, a tear, He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend.
Сторінка 185 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not 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 297 - The wide, the unbounded prospect, lies before me; But shadows, clouds, and darkness rest upon it. Here will I hold. If there's a power above us (And that there is, all nature cries aloud Through all her works) he must delight in virtue; And that which he delights in must be happy.
Сторінка 295 - Took once a pliant hour, and found good means To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, Whereof by parcels...
Сторінка 300 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Сторінка 313 - Earth, Repeats the story of her birth : Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Сторінка 279 - Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be called in to win back our love ? Let us not deceive ourselves, sir.
Сторінка 156 - The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame.
Сторінка 294 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts : I am no orator, as Brutus is ; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood : I only speak right on...
Сторінка 283 - No matter where. Of comfort no man speak: Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth; Let's choose executors and talk of wills : And yet not so — for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own but death, And that small model of the barren earth Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.