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Antony arms beautiful bells better blood born Brutus Cæsar called carried Cassius Citizen comes dark dead death earth expression eyes face fact falling feeling feet fire flowers force give hand head hear heart heaven honor hope horse hour human hundred inflection land learned leave lesson light live look lost mark means mind mountain movement nature never night noble o'er once pass pauses person piece poem poetry pupils require rest Ring rising river rolling round rule seemed ship short side smile snow sound speak spirit stand strong sweet tell thee thing thou thought thousand true turn Valley voice wild wind Write WRITTEN wrong
Сторінка 270 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou; Unchangeable save to thy wild waves
Сторінка 300 - Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers ; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes ? And sell the mighty space of our large honors, For so much trash, as may be grasped thus?
Сторінка 284 - I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided, and that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the future but by the past.
Сторінка 187 - But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world : now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence.
Сторінка 229 - And his low head and crest, just one sharp ear bent back For my voice, and the other pricked out on his track, And one eye's black intelligence — ever that glance O'er its white edge at me, his own master, askance; And the thick heavy spume-flakes, which aye and anon His fierce lips shook upwards in galloping on. By Hasselt, Dirck groaned; and cried Joris, "Stay spur! Your Roos galloped bravely, the fault's not in her; "We'll remember at Aix...
Сторінка 249 - THE DESERTED VILLAGE. SWEET Auburn! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed: Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene! How often have I paused on every charm...
Сторінка 295 - Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine. Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels, for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing, ye in heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end.
Сторінка 106 - While the Union lasts we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise. God grant that, on my vision, never may be opened what lies behind.
Сторінка 266 - O Lord my God, thou art very great ; thou art clothed with honour and majesty. Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain : Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters : who maketh the clouds his chariot ; who walketh upon the wings of the wind...