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 54
... sweet ; and on her cheek trembled something like the first blush of the morning ; her lips moved , and there was harmony and when she floated in the dance , her light form , like the aspen , seemed to move with eve- ry breeze . 10. I ...
... sweet ; and on her cheek trembled something like the first blush of the morning ; her lips moved , and there was harmony and when she floated in the dance , her light form , like the aspen , seemed to move with eve- ry breeze . 10. I ...
Сторінка 76
... sweet- est solace in adversity , and the greatest enhancement of the blessings of prosperity ? " " Certainly it is , " replied Demetrius ; " because our sorrows are diminished , and our joys increased by sympathetic participation . " 2 ...
... sweet- est solace in adversity , and the greatest enhancement of the blessings of prosperity ? " " Certainly it is , " replied Demetrius ; " because our sorrows are diminished , and our joys increased by sympathetic participation . " 2 ...
Сторінка 101
... sweet and gracious goddess- whom all in public or in private worship , whose taste is grate- ful , and ever will be so , till nature herself shall change - no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle , or chymic power turn thy sceptre ...
... sweet and gracious goddess- whom all in public or in private worship , whose taste is grate- ful , and ever will be so , till nature herself shall change - no tint of words can spot thy snowy mantle , or chymic power turn thy sceptre ...
Сторінка 105
... sweet- ness were displayed in every feature ; and when Inkle , by signs , acquainted her with his condition , she evidently proved that sympathy was confined to no particular clime , and that human- ity depends not upon the color of the ...
... sweet- ness were displayed in every feature ; and when Inkle , by signs , acquainted her with his condition , she evidently proved that sympathy was confined to no particular clime , and that human- ity depends not upon the color of the ...
Сторінка 123
... sweet , but fading graces of inspiring autumn , open the mind of benevolence , and dispose it for con- templation , I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic coun- try , till curiosity began to give way to weariness ; and I sat down ...
... sweet , but fading graces of inspiring autumn , open the mind of benevolence , and dispose it for con- templation , I was wandering in a beautiful and romantic coun- try , till curiosity began to give way to weariness ; and I sat down ...
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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.