Every Day in the Year: A Poetical Epitome of the World's HistoryJames Lauren Ford, Mary K. Ford Dodd, Mead, 1902 - 443 páginas |
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Página 1
... sleeping Milcho lay , Though back and limb Smarted with wrong , he prayed , “ God pardon him ! " So he went forth ; but in God's time he came To light on Uilline's hills a holy flame ; And , dying , gave The land a saint that lost him ...
... sleeping Milcho lay , Though back and limb Smarted with wrong , he prayed , “ God pardon him ! " So he went forth ; but in God's time he came To light on Uilline's hills a holy flame ; And , dying , gave The land a saint that lost him ...
Página 8
... sleep ' Mid a faithless world , -at watch and ward , Till the Christ at the end relieve our guard . By his servant Moses the watch was set : Though near upon cock - crow - we keep it yet . XVI . " Thou ! if thou wast He , who at mid ...
... sleep ' Mid a faithless world , -at watch and ward , Till the Christ at the end relieve our guard . By his servant Moses the watch was set : Though near upon cock - crow - we keep it yet . XVI . " Thou ! if thou wast He , who at mid ...
Página 15
... sleep is bound , No more to wander through the ways of men ; But He these his furnishings , ingathered . when traveled all Arcadia's laurelled ground , The cheer and nurture of his journey found , He hath bequeathed them to the world ...
... sleep is bound , No more to wander through the ways of men ; But He these his furnishings , ingathered . when traveled all Arcadia's laurelled ground , The cheer and nurture of his journey found , He hath bequeathed them to the world ...
Página 18
... sleep on , In the grave where a Briton has laid him . But half of our heavy task was done , When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we knew by the distant random gun , That the foe was sullenly firing . Slowly and sadly we ...
... sleep on , In the grave where a Briton has laid him . But half of our heavy task was done , When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we knew by the distant random gun , That the foe was sullenly firing . Slowly and sadly we ...
Página 22
... sleep on a matress , a bed , or a mat , OR A COT , The Akond of Swat ? When he writes a copy in round - hand size , Does he cross his T's and finish his I's WITH A DOT , The Akond of Swat ? Can he write a letter concisely clear Without ...
... sleep on a matress , a bed , or a mat , OR A COT , The Akond of Swat ? When he writes a copy in round - hand size , Does he cross his T's and finish his I's WITH A DOT , The Akond of Swat ? Can he write a letter concisely clear Without ...
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Every Day in the Year: A Poetical Epitome of the World's History James Lauren Ford,Mary K Ford Sin vista previa disponible - 2023 |
Términos y frases comunes
Alfred Tennyson banner battle beneath blood bold born brave breast breath bright brow Cæsar cannon cheer crown dare dark dead dear death deeds deep died dream drum earth Edmund Gosse England English eyes face fame fear Felicia Hemans fell fierce fight fire flag flame flowers fought Francis Saltus Saltus gallant glory grave guns hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hero honor John Boyle O'Reilly King land light lips living Lord Lord Byron March morning mourn never night o'er peace Philip Freneau praise proud Richard Watson Gilder roar rose round sail shine ship shore shot shout silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound Spain spirit stars stood Swat sweet sword tears thee thine thou throne thunder Twas victory voice Wallace Rice wave weep wild William Makepeace Thackeray William Wordsworth
Pasajes populares
Página 122 - O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Página 18 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Página 57 - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again...
Página 117 - O Captain ! My Captain ! Our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
Página 327 - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
Página 342 - Pr'ythee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny : 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Página 406 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Página 342 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Página 380 - Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise : See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes...
Página 278 - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.