The American First Class Book, Or, Exercises in Reading and Recitation: Selected Principally from Modern Authors of Great Britain and America, and Designed for the Use of the Highest Class in Publick and Private Schools

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Cummings, Hilliard & Company, 1825 - 480 Seiten
 

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Seite 456 - Cas. Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus : and we petty men Walk under his huge legs, and peep about To find ourselves dishonourable graves. Men at sometimes are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings. Brutus—and
Seite 445 - have thee not; and yet I see thee still. Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible To feeling, as to sight 1 or art thou but A dagger of the mind ; a false creation, Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? I see thee yet, in form as palpable As this which now I draw.
Seite 459 - Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; And sure, he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke; But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause : What cause withholds you then to mourn for him 1 O
Seite 259 - 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.
Seite 446 - by his sentinel, the wolf, Whose howls his watch, thus, with his stealthy pace, With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design Moves like a ghost.—Thou sure and firm-set earth, Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear The very stones prate of my where-about, And take the present horrour from the time, Which now suits with
Seite 380 - as soon as this—thy son was come, who hath devoured thy living with harlots, thou hast killed for him the fatted calf." And the father said unto him—" Son, thou art ever with me ; and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry and be glad : for this—thy
Seite 459 - Let but the commons hear this testament, (Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read,) And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds, And dip their napkins in his sacred blood— Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it, as a rich legacy, Unto their issne.
Seite 261 - hills Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun,—the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods—rivers that move In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green; and, poured round all. Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— Are but the solemn decorations all
Seite 259 - river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean-side ? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,— The desert and illimitable air,,— Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have
Seite 455 - Darest 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 And stemming it with hearts of controversy. With lusty

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