Select Readings from the Poets and Prose Writers of Every Country |
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Стр. ix
... the first edition , though placed there only from admiration of the Author , and
with no pecuniary motive save to benefit the People . If , however , I have still
inserted any piece in a like manner , I trust the Author will forgive me when he
knows.
... the first edition , though placed there only from admiration of the Author , and
with no pecuniary motive save to benefit the People . If , however , I have still
inserted any piece in a like manner , I trust the Author will forgive me when he
knows.
Стр. xiii
Saint Philip Neri and the Youth * There ' s aye something better before us ” A
Sermon on “ Malt ” A Plain Man ' s Philosophy The Bundle of Sticks . . . Julius
Cæsar - Act III . The Echo Song . . . The Death of Marmion The Discontented
Pendulum ...
Saint Philip Neri and the Youth * There ' s aye something better before us ” A
Sermon on “ Malt ” A Plain Man ' s Philosophy The Bundle of Sticks . . . Julius
Cæsar - Act III . The Echo Song . . . The Death of Marmion The Discontented
Pendulum ...
Стр. xiv
PAGE 236 237 : : : : 239 241 243 244 : : 246 248 : 251 252 254 255 : : 259 “ In
Heaven there ' s Rest ” The Church Canon . . . Adam ' s Morning Hymn The
Common Lot . . . Light for All . . . . . . Ginevra . . . . . . An English Peasant . . . The
Light in ...
PAGE 236 237 : : : : 239 241 243 244 : : 246 248 : 251 252 254 255 : : 259 “ In
Heaven there ' s Rest ” The Church Canon . . . Adam ' s Morning Hymn The
Common Lot . . . Light for All . . . . . . Ginevra . . . . . . An English Peasant . . . The
Light in ...
Стр. 7
COURAGE , brother , do not stumble , Though thy path be dark as night ; There '
s a star to guide the humble :“ Trust in God , and do the right ! ” Let the road be
rough and dreary , · And its end far out of sight , Foot it bravely ! strong or weary ...
COURAGE , brother , do not stumble , Though thy path be dark as night ; There '
s a star to guide the humble :“ Trust in God , and do the right ! ” Let the road be
rough and dreary , · And its end far out of sight , Foot it bravely ! strong or weary ...
Стр. 13
Oh your sweet eyes , your low replies ; A great enchantress you may be ; But
there was that across his throat Which you had hardly cared to see . Lady Clara
Vere de Vere , When thus he met his mother ' s view , She had the passions of
her ...
Oh your sweet eyes , your low replies ; A great enchantress you may be ; But
there was that across his throat Which you had hardly cared to see . Lady Clara
Vere de Vere , When thus he met his mother ' s view , She had the passions of
her ...
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Antony arms bear beauty bells better bird blessed breath bright Brutus Cæsar child CITIZEN cold comes cried dark dead dear death deep door dying earth Emma eyes face fair fall father fear feel fire flowers friends gentle give grave green hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills honour hope hour John kind king knew Labour Lady land leave light live look mind morning mother nature never night o'er once pass play poor praise Queen reply rest rise round side sleep smile song soon soul sound speak spirit stood strong sure sweet tears tell thee There's thing thou thought toil Twas voice waves wife wild
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Стр. 350 - When even at last the solemn hour shall come, And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, Will rising wonders sing. I cannot go Where universal love not smiles around, Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns; From seeming evil still educing good, And better thence again, and better still, In infinite progression.
Стр. 171 - Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.
Стр. 45 - Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth : my high-blown pride At length broke under me ; and now has left me, Weary, and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must for ever hide me.
Стр. 178 - I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts: I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend; and that they know full well That gave me public leave to speak of him: For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men's blood...
Стр. 22 - Why had they come to wither there, Away from their childhood's land ? There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth ; There was manhood's brow, serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth. What sought they thus afar ? Bright jewels of the mine ? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war ? They sought a faith's pure shrine ! Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod ; They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God.
Стр. 177 - O, now you weep ; and, I perceive, you feel The dint of pity ; these are gracious drops ; Kind souls ! What; weep you, when you but behold Our Ceesar's vesture wounded ? Look you here, Here is himself, marr'd, as you see, with traitors.
Стр. 74 - The world recedes: it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy Victory? O Death! where is thy Sting.
Стр. 350 - Should fate command me to the farthest verge Of the green earth, to distant barbarous climes, Rivers unknown to song, — where first the sun Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam Flames on the Atlantic isles, — 'tis naught to me : Since God is ever present, ever felt, In the void waste, as in the city full ; And where he vital breathes, there must be joy.
Стр. 225 - THE stately Homes of England, How beautiful they stand! Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry Homes of England! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told, Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page...
Стр. 295 - Wherein you dress'd yourself ? hath it slept since ? And wakes it now, to look so green and pale At what it did so freely ? From this time, Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard To be the same in thine own act and valour, As thou art in desire ? Wouldst thou have that Which thou esteem' st the ornament of life, And live a coward in thine own esteem, Letting I dare not wait upon I would, Like the poor cat i