Exercises in Reading and RecitationJonathan Barber author, 1828 - 251 psl. |
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16 psl.
... Thou hadst : whom hast thou then or whatt ' accuse , But Heav'n's free love dealt equally to all ? Be then his love accurs'd , since love or hate , To me alike , it deals eternal wo . Nay curs'd be thou ; since against his thy will ...
... Thou hadst : whom hast thou then or whatt ' accuse , But Heav'n's free love dealt equally to all ? Be then his love accurs'd , since love or hate , To me alike , it deals eternal wo . Nay curs'd be thou ; since against his thy will ...
24 psl.
... has succeeded ; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever . Never , never more , shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex , -that proud submission , -that dignified ... thou hast made my days , as it 24 EXERCISES.
... has succeeded ; and the glory of Europe is extinguished for ever . Never , never more , shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex , -that proud submission , -that dignified ... thou hast made my days , as it 24 EXERCISES.
25 psl.
Jonathan Barber. Behold , thou hast made my days , as it were , a span long ; and mine age is even as nothing in re- spect of thee ; and verily every man living is alto- gether vanity : for man walketh in a vain shadow , and disquieteth ...
Jonathan Barber. Behold , thou hast made my days , as it were , a span long ; and mine age is even as nothing in re- spect of thee ; and verily every man living is alto- gether vanity : for man walketh in a vain shadow , and disquieteth ...
27 psl.
... thou art laid . When howling winds , and beating rain , In tempests shake thy sylvan cell ; Or ' midst the chace on every plain , The tender thought on thee shall dwell ; Each lonely scene shall thee restore , For thee the tear be duly ...
... thou art laid . When howling winds , and beating rain , In tempests shake thy sylvan cell ; Or ' midst the chace on every plain , The tender thought on thee shall dwell ; Each lonely scene shall thee restore , For thee the tear be duly ...
42 psl.
... Thou art fled to brutish beasts , And men have lost their reason ! Bear with me : My heart is in the coffin there with Cesar ; And I must pause till it come back to me . But yesterday , the word of Cesar might Have stood against the ...
... Thou art fled to brutish beasts , And men have lost their reason ! Bear with me : My heart is in the coffin there with Cesar ; And I must pause till it come back to me . But yesterday , the word of Cesar might Have stood against the ...
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angel Antium Arcot arms battle behold bliss blood breast breath Brutus Cæsar CARDINAL WOLSEY Cassius cloud Coriolanus dark dead death deep divine dreadful earth Erin go bragh eternal eyes fair father fear feel friends give glory hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hell Hevey honour hope hour house of Bourbon human Hyder Ali Ithuriel Jesus king light live Lochiel look Lord lyre mind morn mountain nature never night noble o'er once pain peace Pharisees pool of Siloam praise pray proud rocks sacred Samaria Satan scene shade SHAKSPEARE sigh sight sleep smile soldiers song soul sound speak spirit stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought throne thyself tion truth twas unto vex'd virtue voice waters wave Waverly wild wings youth Zephon
Populiarios ištraukos
127 psl. - 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.
50 psl. - Thus with the year Seasons return, but not to me returns Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose, Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine: But cloud instead, and ever-during dark Surrounds me...
57 psl. - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar. I love not man the less, but Nature more...
154 psl. - 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.
147 psl. - Dar'st thou, Cassius, now Leap in with me into this angry flood, And swim to yonder point ? Upon the word, Accoutred as I was, I plunged in, And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. The torrent roared ; and we did buffet it With lusty sinews ; throwing it aside, And stemming it with hearts of controversy.
143 psl. - O woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
58 psl. - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, and monarchs tremble in their capitals ; the oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make their clay creator the vain title take of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, these are thy toys ; and, as the snowy flake, they melt into thy yeast of waves which mar alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
127 psl. - Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness ! This is the state of man ; to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope, 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.
64 psl. - Having therefore obtained help of God, I continue unto this day, witnessing both to small and great, saying none other things than those which the prophets and Moses did say should come : that Christ should suffer, and that he should be the first that should rise from the dead, and should shew light unto the people, and to the Gentiles.
148 psl. - tis true, this god did shake; His coward lips did from their colour fly, And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world Did lose his lustre; I did hear him groan; Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans Mark him and write his speeches in their books, Alas! it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius,