St. Nicholas, Том 11,Часть 1

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Scribner & Company, 1884
 

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Стр. 288 - Everywhere I see around me rise the wondrous world of Art: Fountains wrought with richest sculpture standing in the common mart; And above cathedral doorways saints and bishops carved in stone, By a former age commissioned as apostles to our own. In the church of sainted Sebald sleeps enshrined his holy dust...
Стр. 188 - Madison dropped into the chair, put his elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands. She came a little nearer, and laid her hand lightly on his arm. He made a movement as if to take it, but she withdrew it impatiently. "Come," she said brusquely; "now you're in for it you must play the game out.
Стр. 326 - Not so, but happy am I, though this has happened to me, because I continue free from pain, neither crushed by the present nor fearing the future.
Стр. 7 - We have thought fit, by, and with, the Advice of our Privy Council, to notify the same to all Our loving Subjects and we do declare, that our Royal will and Pleasure is, and we do hereby strictly charge and Command all our officers, both at Sea and Land, and all...
Стр. 67 - Resolved, that the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the Union be thirteen stars, white, in a blue field, representing a new constellation.
Стр. 288 - Emigravit is the inscription on the tombstone where he lies, Dead he is not — but departed — for the artist never dies : Fairer seems the ancient city, and the sunshine seems more fair That he once has trod its pavement, that he once has breathed its air.
Стр. 166 - One sight of such a coast is enough to make a landsman dream for a week about shipwrecks, peril, and death ; and with this sight we bade farewell for ever to Tierra del Fuego.
Стр. 288 - Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng: Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old ; And thy brave and thrifty burghers boasted, in their uncouth rhyme, That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every clime. In the court-yard of the castle, bound with many an iron band, Stands the mighty linden planted by Queen Cunigunde's hand...
Стр. 47 - ... nests, he was very glad to have this hive with him, for, if he did not find any wild honey, he would put his hand in his pocket and take out a piece of a comb for a luncheon.
Стр. 288 - IN the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadowlands Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands, Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song, Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like the rooks that round them throng: Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold, Had their dwelling in thy castle, time-defying, centuries old...

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