The book of recitations [ed.] by C.W. Smith |
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Pàgina vi
... Dying Gladiator King Canute Home The Burial of Sir John Moore W. R. Spencer . 158 Willis . 161 Leigh Hunt . Motherwell . 164 165 . Longfellow . 167 Leigh Hunt . 169 Dr. Byrom . 171 J. Lawrence . 172 C. F. Orne . 173 • vi CONTENTS .
... Dying Gladiator King Canute Home The Burial of Sir John Moore W. R. Spencer . 158 Willis . 161 Leigh Hunt . Motherwell . 164 165 . Longfellow . 167 Leigh Hunt . 169 Dr. Byrom . 171 J. Lawrence . 172 C. F. Orne . 173 • vi CONTENTS .
Pàgina 1
... king . " He spoke , and the cup from the terrible steep , That , rugged and hoary , hung over the verge Of the endless and measureless world of the deep , Swirled into the maëlstrom that maddened the surge . " And where is the diver so ...
... king . " He spoke , and the cup from the terrible steep , That , rugged and hoary , hung over the verge Of the endless and measureless world of the deep , Swirled into the maëlstrom that maddened the surge . " And where is the diver so ...
Pàgina 2
... king , Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle , ' Mid the tremulous squires - stepped out from the ring , Unbuckling his girdle , and doffing his mantle ; And the murmuring crowd , as they parted asunder , On the stately boy ...
... king , Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but gentle , ' Mid the tremulous squires - stepped out from the ring , Unbuckling his girdle , and doffing his mantle ; And the murmuring crowd , as they parted asunder , On the stately boy ...
Pàgina 3
... king- A crown at such hazard were valued too dear . For never shall lips of the living reveal What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal . Oh , many a bark , to that breast grappled fast , Has gone down to the fearful and ...
... king- A crown at such hazard were valued too dear . For never shall lips of the living reveal What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal . Oh , many a bark , to that breast grappled fast , Has gone down to the fearful and ...
Pàgina 4
... king as he sinks on his knee- And the king from her maidens has beckoned his daughter . She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring , And thus spoke the Diver- " Long life to the King ! " Happy they whom the rose - hues of ...
... king as he sinks on his knee- And the king from her maidens has beckoned his daughter . She pours to the boy the bright wine which they bring , And thus spoke the Diver- " Long life to the King ! " Happy they whom the rose - hues of ...
Frases i termes més freqüents
arms bear beauty beneath blood breast breath bright brother brow child cold cried dark dead death deep dread dream earth face fair fall father fear feel fell fire friends gave gazed give gold gone grave hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour king knew land leave light live lonely look Lord mind morn never night o'er once passed peace play poor pride proud replied rest rise rock roll rose round seemed seen side sigh silent sleep smile soon soul sound spirit stand stood stream strong sweet tears tell thee thing thou thought turned Twas voice waves wild wind young youth
Passatges populars
Pàgina 211 - Wept o'er his wounds or tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe ; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Pàgina 130 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird, or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Pàgina 275 - O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners...
Pàgina 19 - Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Pàgina 282 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life ; But that the dread of something after death, — The undiscovered country, from whose bourn No traveller returns, — puzzles the will ; And makes us rather bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all...
Pàgina 260 - Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.
Pàgina 63 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Pàgina 278 - tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly.
Pàgina 274 - This is the state of man : To-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes ; to-morrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him : The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ; And, — when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, — nips his root, And then he falls, as I do.
Pàgina 210 - Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild ; There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.