Choice Selections: Being about Six Hundred Extracts from More Than Two Hundred Different Authors, Designed for Lessons in Recitation, Reading, Morals, and LiteratureEducational Publishing Company, 1890 - 216 sider |
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Choice Selections: Being about Six Hundred Extracts from More Than Two ... Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1888 |
Choice Selections: Being about Six Hundred Extracts from More Than Two ... Charles Northend Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1890 |
Choice Selections: Being about Six Hundred Extracts from More Than Two ... Charles Northend Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1892 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Alexander Smart angel Anon Bayard Taylor beauty better than gold bird bless breath Charity Cicero clouds Cowper dark death deeds duty earth Education Elihu Burritt Eliza Cook England eternal fall fear feel flowers friends gentle gentleman give glorious glory God's H. W. Longfellow hand happiness hath heart heaven honor hope Horace Greeley hour human J. G. Holland Jean Ingelow kind knowledge labor land leave life's light live look Lord Byron Mass mind morning mountain nature nectarian never night o'er ocean P. J. Bailey peace pleasure poor R. H. Dana Robert Pollok Scotland shine sing smile song sorrow soul speak spirit stars storms sweet tear thee There's things thou thought toil tongue treasures tree true truth virtue waves weary Whipple Whittier winds wing of Heaven wings wisdom wise words worth youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 98 - Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own, Extols the treasures of his stormy seas, And his long nights of revelry and ease; The naked negro, panting at the line, Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave, And thanks his Gods for all the good they gave. Such is the patriot's boast, where'er we roam, His first, best country ever is, at home.
Side 112 - We know what Master laid thy keel, What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel. Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope...
Side 116 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening
Side 88 - Heaven is not reached at a single bound, But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
Side 98 - Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night,— For thou must die.
Side 100 - LAERTES' head. And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade.
Side 88 - Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate, All but the page prescribed, their present state : From brutes what men, from men what spirits know : • Or who could suffer being here below ? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play ? Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Side 77 - Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, Have ofttimes no connection. Knowledge dwells In heads replete with thoughts of other men, Wisdom in minds attentive to their own. Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mass, The mere materials with which wisdom builds, Till smoothed and squared and fitted to its place, Does but encumber whom it seems to enrich. Knowledge is proud that he has learned so much ; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.
Side 93 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Side 109 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And,...