The First Lines of English Grammar: Being a Brief Abstract of the Author's Larger Work, the "Institutes of English Grammar" : Designed for Young Learners, Llibre 1

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W. Wood, 1874 - 122 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 84 - Is not the whole land before thee? separate thyself, I pray thee, from me : if thou wilt take the left hand, then I will go to the right ; or if thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left.
Pàgina 106 - Sometimes a distant sail, gliding along the edge of the ocean, would be another theme of idle speculation. How interesting this fragment of a world, hastening to rejoin the great mass of existence!
Pàgina 116 - Thou preparedst room before it, And didst cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of it, And the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars. She sent out her boughs unto the sea, And her branches unto the river.
Pàgina 105 - Order is Heaven's first law; and this confest, Some are, and must be, greater than the rest, More rich, more wise; but who infers from hence That such are happier, shocks all common sense.
Pàgina 12 - Our sons their fathers' failing language see, And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be.
Pàgina 115 - Thou makest us a strife unto our neighbours : and our enemies laugh among themselves. 7 Turn us again, O God of hosts, and cause thy face to shine ; and we shall be saved. 8 Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt : thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it.
Pàgina 30 - There are three degrees of comparison ; the positive, the comparative, and the superlative.
Pàgina 110 - The only point where human bliss stands still, And tastes the good without the fall to ill ; Where only merit...
Pàgina 101 - Cranmer, whether that he had received a secret intimation of their design, or had repented of his weakness, surprised the audience by a contrary declaration. He said, that he was well apprised of the obedience which he owed to his sovereign and the laws ; but...
Pàgina 107 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

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