Elocutionary Leaflets ..., Выпуск 1

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Стр. 21 - White are his shoulders and white his crest. Hear him call in his merry note: " Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Look what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there was never a bird so fine. Chee, chee, chee...
Стр. 42 - s the English at our heels ; would you have them take in tow All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, For a prize to Plymouth Sound? Better run the ships aground!
Стр. 45 - Since I needs must say my say, since on board the duty's done, And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run? — Since 'tis ask and have, I may — since the others go ashore — Come! A good whole holiday' Leave to go and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore!
Стр. 45 - In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the bell. Go to Paris; rank on rank Search the heroes flung pell-mell On the Louvre, face and flank! You shall look long enough ere you come to Herve Riel.
Стр. 44 - My friend, I must speak out at the end, Though I find the speaking hard. Praise is deeper than the lips : You have saved the King his ships, You must name your own reward. 'Faith our sun was near eclipse! Demand whate'er you will, France remains your debtor still. Ask to heart's content and have! or my name's not Damfreville.
Стр. 43 - See, safe through shoal and rock, How they follow in a flock, Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground, Not a spar that comes to grief! The peril, see, is past, All are harbored to the last, And just as Herve Riel hollas "Anchor!
Стр. 94 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not: Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Стр. 73 - Fore God I am no coward ; But I cannot meet them here, for my ships are out of gear, And the half my men are sick. I must fly, but follow quick. We are six ships of the line; can we fight with fiftythree?
Стр. 22 - Modest and shy as a nun is she; One weak chirp is her only note. Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Never was I afraid of man; Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can! Chee, chee, chee.
Стр. 75 - And half of the rest of us maim'd for life In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife; And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark and cold, And the pikes were all broken or bent, and the powder was all of it spent...

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