The Book of Brave Adventures

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Macmillan, 1915 - Всего страниц: 147
 

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Стр. 134 - Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!
Стр. 95 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea: And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free ! The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam : And the rocking pines of the forest roared, — This was their welcome home...
Стр. 135 - Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd. Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Стр. 47 - Far in the Northern Land, By the wild Baltic's strand, I, with my childish hand, Tamed the gerfalcon ; And, with my skates fast-bound, Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, That the poor whimpering hound Trembled to walk on.
Стр. 49 - I wooed the blue-eyed maid, Yielding, yet half afraid, And in the forest's shade Our vows were plighted. Under its loosened vest Fluttered her little breast, Like birds within their nest By the hawk frighted.
Стр. 48 - But when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders. Wild was the life we led ; Many the souls that sped, Many the hearts that bled, By our stern orders.
Стр. 50 - Waving his armed hand, Saw we old Hildebrand, With twenty horsemen. "Then launched they to the blast, Bent like a reed each mast, Yet we were gaining fast, When the wind failed us; And with a sudden flaw Came round the gusty Skaw, So that our foe we saw Laugh as he hailed us.
Стр. 46 - SPEAK ! speak ! thou fearful guest Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me ! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me?
Стр. 20 - Along the emblazoned wall. This was the truest warrior That ever buckled sword, This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word ; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truths half so sage As he wrote down for men.
Стр. 53 - Death closed her mild blue eyes, Under that tower she lies; Ne'er shall the sun arise On such another! "Still grew my bosom then, Still as a stagnant fen! Hateful to me were men, The sunlight hateful! In the vast forest here, Clad in my warlike gear, Fell I upon my spear, Oh, death was grateful!

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