The Literary Reader: For Academies and High Schools: Consisting of Selections in Prose and Verse, from American, English and Other Foreign Literature, Chronologically Arranged. Including Biographical Sketches, and Remarks on the Art of ReadingJ. P. Jewett & Company, 1851 - Всего страниц: 408 |
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Стр. 44
... forward led , Joying to hear the birds ' sweet harmony , Which , therein shrouded from the tempest dread , Seemed in their song to scorn the cruel sky . Much can they praise the trees , so straight and 44 THE LITERARY READER .
... forward led , Joying to hear the birds ' sweet harmony , Which , therein shrouded from the tempest dread , Seemed in their song to scorn the cruel sky . Much can they praise the trees , so straight and 44 THE LITERARY READER .
Стр. 47
... hear more , or shall I speak at this ? ( Aside . ) Jul . ' Tis but thy name that is my enemy ; Thou art thyself , though not a Montague . What's Montague ? It is not hand , nor foot , - Nor arm , nor face- Belonging to a man . What's in ...
... hear more , or shall I speak at this ? ( Aside . ) Jul . ' Tis but thy name that is my enemy ; Thou art thyself , though not a Montague . What's Montague ? It is not hand , nor foot , - Nor arm , nor face- Belonging to a man . What's in ...
Стр. 50
... hear some noise within . Dear love , adieu ! purpose , love ? ( Nurse calls within . ) Anon , good nurse ! sweet Montague , be true . Stay but a little , I will come again . ( Exit . ) Rom . O blessed , blessed night ! I am afeared ...
... hear some noise within . Dear love , adieu ! purpose , love ? ( Nurse calls within . ) Anon , good nurse ! sweet Montague , be true . Stay but a little , I will come again . ( Exit . ) Rom . O blessed , blessed night ! I am afeared ...
Стр. 53
... hear it . Come , ho ! and wake Diana with a hymn ; With sweetest touches pierce your mistress ' ear , And draw her home with music . Jes . I'm never merry when I hear sweet music . Lor . The reason is , your spirits are attentive ; For ...
... hear it . Come , ho ! and wake Diana with a hymn ; With sweetest touches pierce your mistress ' ear , And draw her home with music . Jes . I'm never merry when I hear sweet music . Lor . The reason is , your spirits are attentive ; For ...
Стр. 59
... As melancholic As you are . Pray you , why would you stand mute , sir ? Lov . O thereon hangs a history , mine host . Did you e'er know or hear of the Lord Beaufort , Who served so bravely in France ? I was his BEN JOHNSON .. 59 %
... As melancholic As you are . Pray you , why would you stand mute , sir ? Lov . O thereon hangs a history , mine host . Did you e'er know or hear of the Lord Beaufort , Who served so bravely in France ? I was his BEN JOHNSON .. 59 %
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arms art thou Auld Robin Gray BATTLE OF WORCESTER beauty behold bells Belvidera BEN JONSON bless bosom breath bright called Casa Wappy child clouds Cumnor dance dark dead dear death delight dost doth dream earth eyes fair fall father feeling gaze give hand happy hath hear heard heart heaven holy honor hour Izaak Walton Jarl king lady light live look Lord lord chamberlain Lycidas marriage Mary Howitt mind morning mother nature never night noble o'er passed passion PHILIP DODDRIDGE PHILIP MASSINGER Pilgrim's Progress pleasure poems poet poor rest rise seemed sigh sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit sweet Tatler tears tell thee thine things THOMAS PRINGLE thou art thought tree virtue voice wife wild wind woman wonderful word writings young youth
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Стр. 341 - Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! 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...
Стр. 339 - And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume . The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Стр. 47 - tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
Стр. 93 - Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet, And hears the Muses in a ring Aye round about Jove's altar sing; And add to these retired Leisure, That in trim gardens takes his pleasure; But, first and chiefest, with thee bring Him that yon soars on golden wing, Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, The Cherub Contemplation...
Стр. 218 - What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion : the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite ; a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Стр. 144 - It must be so — Plato, thou reasonest well ; Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought ? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; 'Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man...
Стр. 92 - Haste thee nymph and bring with thee Jest and youthful jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles. Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled care derides. And laughter holding both his sides.
Стр. 217 - If this Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft In darkness and amid the many shapes Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart — How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods, How often has my spirit turned to thee!
Стр. 96 - Oft till the star that rose at evening, bright, Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering wheel. Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, Tempered to the oaten flute ; Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel From the glad sound would not be absent long; And old Damoetas loved to hear our song.
Стр. 193 - My hold of the colonies is in the close affection which grows from common names, from kindred blood, from similar privileges, and equal protection. These are ties which, though light as air, are as strong as links of iron. Let the colonies always keep the idea of their civil rights associated with your government, they will cling and grapple to you ; and no force under heaven will be of power to tear them from their allegiance.