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Стр. 222 - But everybody said," quoth he, "that 'twas a famous victory. My father lived at Blenheim then, yon little stream hard by; they burnt his dwelling to the ground, and he was forced to fly: so with his wife and child he fled, nor had he where to rest his head.
Стр. 229 - Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave? On that shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Стр. 42 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor...
Стр. 229 - O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming! And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there...
Стр. 40 - How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
Стр. 224 - Intreat me not to leave thee, And to return from following after thee : For whither thou goest, I will go; And where thou lodgest, I will lodge; Thy people shall be my people, And thy God my God; Where thou diest, will I die, And there will I be buried : The LORD do so to me, And more also, If aught but death part thee and me.
Стр. 41 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells! What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher.
Стр. 220 - IT was a summer evening, Old Kaspar's work was done; And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun, And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine. She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round...