Classics Old and New: A Series of School Readers, Книга 5

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American Book Company, 1907
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Сторінка 178 - Eske river where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all.
Сторінка 138 - midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way...
Сторінка 139 - Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart, Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone Will lead my steps aright.
Сторінка 12 - No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer.
Сторінка 89 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn : He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now I often wish the night Had borne my breath away ! I remember, I remember...
Сторінка 9 - Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the gate : 'To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late; And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his Gods...
Сторінка 76 - The stout mate thought of home ; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. "What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn ?" "Why, you shall say at break of day, 'Sail on! sail on! and on!
Сторінка 89 - I remember, I remember, Where I was used to swing; And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing: My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow!
Сторінка 239 - ... you may destroy this little Institution ; it is weak ; it is in your hands ! I know it is one of the lesser lights in the literary horizon of our country. You may put it out. But if you do so, you must carry through your work ! You must extinguish, one after another, all those...
Сторінка 200 - High o'er the hills of Habersham, Veiling the valleys of Hall, The hickory told me manifold Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, Said, Pass not, so cold, these manifold Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, These glades in the valleys of Hall.

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