Every Day in the Year: A Poetical Epitome of the World's HistoryJames Lauren Ford, Mary K. Ford Dodd, Mead, 1902 - 443 psl. |
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16 psl.
... flowers no earthly soil have known , Woven of the beatitudes , shall rest , And the peacemaker be forever blest . -John G. Whittier . January 13 . SPENSER . ( Died Jan. 13 , 1599. ) I've watched him stroll with Raleigh by the wood , Or ...
... flowers no earthly soil have known , Woven of the beatitudes , shall rest , And the peacemaker be forever blest . -John G. Whittier . January 13 . SPENSER . ( Died Jan. 13 , 1599. ) I've watched him stroll with Raleigh by the wood , Or ...
21 psl.
... flowers , And the cities of France on their thrones Each crown'd with his circlet of flowers , Sits watching this biggest of stones ! I love to go sit in the sun there , The flowers and fountains to see , And to think of the deeds that ...
... flowers , And the cities of France on their thrones Each crown'd with his circlet of flowers , Sits watching this biggest of stones ! I love to go sit in the sun there , The flowers and fountains to see , And to think of the deeds that ...
24 psl.
... flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm , the canker , and the grief Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze , - A funeral pile ! The hope , the fear , the ...
... flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm , the canker , and the grief Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze , - A funeral pile ! The hope , the fear , the ...
25 psl.
... Flower , Alexandrovna . And welcome , Russian flower , a people's pride , To Britain , when her flowers begin to blow ! From love to love , from home to home you go , From mother unto mother , stately bride , Marie - Alexandrovna . The ...
... Flower , Alexandrovna . And welcome , Russian flower , a people's pride , To Britain , when her flowers begin to blow ! From love to love , from home to home you go , From mother unto mother , stately bride , Marie - Alexandrovna . The ...
27 psl.
... flower Distilled again in fragrance every hour . I think if Jesus , whom he loved as Lord , Were here again , in such guise might He go , So bind all creeds as with a golden cord , So with the saint speak , with the sinner So. And then ...
... flower Distilled again in fragrance every hour . I think if Jesus , whom he loved as Lord , Were here again , in such guise might He go , So bind all creeds as with a golden cord , So with the saint speak , with the sinner So. And then ...
Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Every Day in the Year– A Poetical Epitome of the World's History James Lauren Ford,Mary K. Ford Visos knygos peržiūra - 1902 |
Every Day in the Year– A Poetical Epitome of the World's History James Lauren Ford,Mary K. Ford Visos knygos peržiūra - 1902 |
Every Day in the Year– A Poetical Epitome of the World's History James Lauren Ford,Mary K Ford Peržiūra negalima - 2023 |
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alfred Tennyson banner battle beneath blood bold born brave breast breath bright brow Cæsar cannon cheer crown dare dark dead dear death deeds deep died dream drum earth Edmund Gosse England English eyes face fame fear Felicia Hemans fell fierce fight fire flag flame flowers fought Francis Saltus Saltus gallant glory grave guns hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hero honor John Boyle O'Reilly King land light lips living Lord Lord Byron March morning mourn never night o'er peace Philip Freneau praise proud Richard Watson Gilder roar rose round sail shine ship shore shot shout silent sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound Spain spirit stars stood Swat sweet sword tears thee thine thou throne thunder Twas victory voice Wallace Rice wave weep wild William Makepeace Thackeray William Wordsworth
Populiarios ištraukos
122 psl. - O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
18 psl. - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
57 psl. - He has outsoared the shadow of our night; Envy and calumny and hate and pain, And that unrest which men miscall delight, Can touch him not and torture not again...
117 psl. - O Captain ! My Captain ! Our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.
327 psl. - SUNSET and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho...
342 psl. - Pr'ythee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny : 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
406 psl. - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
342 psl. - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
380 psl. - Revenge, revenge, Timotheus cries, See the Furies arise : See the snakes that they rear, How they hiss in their hair, And the sparkles that flash from their eyes...
278 psl. - AT midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power ; In dreams, through camp and court, he bore The trophies of a conqueror ; In dreams his song of triumph heard. Then wore his monarch's signet ring, Then pressed that monarch's throne — a King ; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, As Eden's garden bird.