Poetic reader, for the use of schools, 2 dalis1881 |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 33
29 psl.
... darkness fell , And one was put to rout . Oh , in that peaceful valley Was mourning many a day ; The corn , all sodden red in blood , Ungarnered long time lay ; It was a piteous sight to see Where war had had full sway : The dead not ...
... darkness fell , And one was put to rout . Oh , in that peaceful valley Was mourning many a day ; The corn , all sodden red in blood , Ungarnered long time lay ; It was a piteous sight to see Where war had had full sway : The dead not ...
30 psl.
... darkness blind Of black and sultry clouds , the lightning's flash , The thunder's awful rolling , all combined With pilot's shouts , and many a frightful crash , Produced a sound , a harmony so dire , It seemed the world itself should ...
... darkness blind Of black and sultry clouds , the lightning's flash , The thunder's awful rolling , all combined With pilot's shouts , and many a frightful crash , Produced a sound , a harmony so dire , It seemed the world itself should ...
41 psl.
... darkness that muffles his path ; And lo ! as the pent - up flame of his heart Flashes out from behind its bars , It gleams like a bolt flung from heaven and rears A ladder of light to the stars . Talk of the sea fleeing back in his ...
... darkness that muffles his path ; And lo ! as the pent - up flame of his heart Flashes out from behind its bars , It gleams like a bolt flung from heaven and rears A ladder of light to the stars . Talk of the sea fleeing back in his ...
49 psl.
... dark winter , Haco , A solemn watch they kept . And at early burst of Spring - time , When the birds sang out with glee , They took the body of Haco In a ship across the sea- Across the sea to Norway , Where thy sires make moan for thee ...
... dark winter , Haco , A solemn watch they kept . And at early burst of Spring - time , When the birds sang out with glee , They took the body of Haco In a ship across the sea- Across the sea to Norway , Where thy sires make moan for thee ...
50 psl.
Poetic reader. Oh , now forget how dark and red Virginia's rivers flow , The Rappahannock's tangled wilds , the glory and the woe ; The fever - hung encampments , where our dying knew full sore How sweet the north wind to the cheek it ...
Poetic reader. Oh , now forget how dark and red Virginia's rivers flow , The Rappahannock's tangled wilds , the glory and the woe ; The fever - hung encampments , where our dying knew full sore How sweet the north wind to the cheek it ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
Alcinous ALICE CARY beauty bells beneath Bill bird blow brave breath bright CELIA THAXTER CHARLES WARREN STODDARD cloud crimson dark dark waves dead dream earth EMMA LAZARUS eyes face fair flowers Frankie Gallop gaze Glad song gleam glides gold golden GRANDPÈRE green grow Haco hand Hark hath head heart heaven HENRY GRINNELL hill JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER labour LAING PURVES land light little Wren look maidens merry mighty morning murmur Nausicaa nest night o'er peace Pilgrim PILGRIM FATHERS Poems proud rain roar ROBERT BUCHANAN rocks round rush sail shining shore shout showers sight sing smile soft softly song soul sound Spring star steed storm stream summer summers rolled sweet thee thou thro thrush tossed trees Twas voice waters waters dividing waves are free weary wide waves wild wind wings Winter woods yellow
Populiarios ištraukos
207 psl. - The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
207 psl. - The Last Leaf I saw him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, "They are gone.
104 psl. - Last night, among his fellow roughs, He jested, quaffed, and swore, A drunken private of the Buffs, Who never looked before. To-day, beneath the foeman's frown, He stands in Elgin's place, Ambassador from Britain's crown, And type of all her race.
80 psl. - The pilgrim spirit has not fled : It walks in noon's broad light ; And it watches the bed of the glorious dead, With the holy stars, by night. It watches the bed of the brave who have bled, And shall guard this ice-bound shore, Till the waves of the bay, where the May-Flower lay, Shall foam and freeze no more.
208 psl. - My grandmamma has said — Poor old lady ! she is dead Long ago — That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here ; But the old three-cornered hat And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer ! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree • In the spring, Let them smile, as I do...
80 psl. - The Pilgrim exile — sainted name ! — The hill, whose icy brow Rejoiced when he came, in the morning's flame, In the morning's flame burns now ; And the moon's cold light, as it lay that night On the hill-side and the sea, Still lies where he laid his houseless head ; — But the Pilgrim — where is he ? 4.
32 psl. - HARK ! I hear the tramp of thousands, And of armed men the hum ; Lo ! a nation's hosts have gathered Round the quick alarming drum, — Saying, " Come, Freemen, come ! Ere your heritage be wasted," said the quick alarming drum. " Let me of my heart take counsel : War is not of life the sum ; Who shall stay and reap the harvest When the autumn days shall come ? " But the drum Echoed, " Come ! Death shall reap the braver harvest," said the solemnsounding drum.
79 psl. - THE Pilgrim Fathers — where are they? The waves that brought them o'er Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray, As they break along the shore ; Still roll in the bay, as they rolled that day, When the Mayflower moored below, When the sea around was black with storms, And white the shore with snow.
223 psl. - There is place and enough for the pains of prose ; But whenever the May-blood stirs and glows, And the young year draws to the
33 psl. - Thus they answered, — hoping, fearing, Some in faith, and doubting some, Till a trumpet-voice proclaiming, Said, " My chosen people, come ! " Then the drum, Lo ! was dumb, For the great heart of the nation, throbbing, answered, " Lord, we come !