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 Public and Private Schools, Book 4

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Carter, Hendee & Company, 1835 - 480 pages
 

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Page 455 - tis his will : 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 issue.
Page 356 - Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears, 150 To strew the laureate hearse where Lycid lies. For so, to interpose a little ease, Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise, Ay me...
Page 453 - Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all freemen?
Page 469 - It must be so Plato, thou reason'st well ! Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire, This longing after immortality ? Or whence this secret dread, and inward horror, Of falling into nought? why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destruction ? Tis the divinity that stirs within us ; Tis heaven itself, that points out an hereafter, And intimates eternity to man. Eternity ! thou pleasing, dreadful, thought ! Through what variety of untried being, Through what new scenes...
Page 286 - 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.
Page 202 - But if a man live many years, and rejoice in them all ; yet let him remember the days of darkness; for they shall be many.
Page 376 - And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father...
Page 355 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues.
Page 257 - Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, yet the dead are there ; And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep: the dead reign there alone.
Page 474 - 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...

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