Swinton's Fourth Reader

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American Book Company, 1883 - Всего страниц: 384
 

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Стр. 328 - Flag of the free heart's hope and home, By angel hands to valor given, Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us...
Стр. 50 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ) Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Стр. 372 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time ; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Стр. 342 - I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country...
Стр. 234 - And he said unto him, Thy brother is come ; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound.
Стр. 326 - When Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there. She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then from his mansion in the sun She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand The symbol of her chosen land.
Стр. 199 - 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.
Стр. 335 - So through the night rode Paul Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, — A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore...
Стр. 48 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long ; His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat ; He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Стр. 333 - He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight A second lamp in the belfry burns!

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