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Seite 343 - one half of the world does not know how the other half lives.
Seite 32 - twas a famous victory! "My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly ; So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head.
Seite 32 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory.
Seite 32 - And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." " But what good came of it at last ?" Quoth little Peterkin. " Why, that I cannot tell," said he,
Seite 196 - Mr. Lely, I desire you would use all your skill to paint my picture truly like me, and not flatter me at all; but remark all these roughnesses, pimples, warts, and everything as you see me, otherwise I will never pay a farthing for it.
Seite 330 - On the other side; which, when the arch-felon saw. Due entrance he disdain'd; and, in contempt, At one slight bound high overleap'd all bound Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf, Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey...
Seite 318 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse: And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues •*> With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, — till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Seite 122 - Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer by this sun of York ; And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths ; Our bruised arms hung up for monuments ; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Seite 328 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free, fair Homes of England ! Long, long, in hut and hall, May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallowed wall! And green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God !* THE SICILIAN CAPTIVE.