Everyday Classics: Fourth Reader |
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Everyday Classics: First [-Eighth] Reader, Том 7 Franklin Thomas Baker,Ashley Horace Thorndike,Fannie Wyche Dunn Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
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Alice asked beautiful Bevis bird blue boat Brownie called carried child coming Cosette cried danced darkness dear Dormouse eyes face father fear feet fish Gardener gave girl give grandfather green gypsies half hand hard head heard Heidi HELPS TO STUDY hill hundred island Jackanapes kind light live lobster look Maggie March mean morning mother mountain never night once passed Peter play poem poor Quaker remember rest river rocks round seemed seen side sing sleep soon stand stood stop story strong talk tell things thought Toil took tree turned voice walked waves wind wonderful yellow young
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Стр. 103 - I gazed— and gazed— but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
Стр. 50 - The world is so full of a number of things, I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings.
Стр. 267 - 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 ! ENDYMION.
Стр. 141 - I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers ; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows ; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses ; I linger by my shingly bars ; I loiter round my cresses ; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Стр. 160 - Oh, better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave; Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms...
Стр. 333 - Say, father, say If yet my task is done!' He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. 'Speak, father!' once again he cried, 'If I may yet be gone!
Стр. 123 - All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride, Lose the freedom of the sod, Like a colt's for work be shod, Made to tread the mills of toil, Up and down in ceaseless moil...
Стр. 139 - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow.
Стр. 11 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Стр. 183 - Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way. I joined them, and thereby was led into the great meeting-house of the Quakers near the market. I sat down among them, and, after looking round...