The Lakeside Literature Readers

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Seite 30 - twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Seite 54 - When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept : Ambition should be made of sterner stuff : Yet Brutus says he was ambitious ; And Brutus is an honorable man. You all did see, that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, "Which he did thrice refuse.
Seite 3 - You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! O, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, Your infants in your arms, and there have sat The live-long day, with patient expectation, To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome...
Seite 32 - The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.
Seite 8 - 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 roar'd, and we did buffet it With lusty sinews, throwing it aside And stemming it with hearts of controversy ; But ere we could arrive the point proposed, Caesar cried ' Help me, Cassius, or I sink...
Seite 68 - BRU. You say you are a better soldier : Let it appear so; make your vaunting true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble men. CAS. You wrong me every way ; you wrong me, Brutus ; I said an elder soldier, not a better : Did I say, " better
Seite 59 - I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar's wounds, poor poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me: but were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
Seite 37 - There can be no greater error than to expect or calculate upon real favors from nation to nation. It is an illusion which experience must cure, which a just pride ought to discard.
Seite 39 - I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were " 'Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.
Seite 28 - However combinations or associations of the above description may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, to become potent engines by which cunning, ambitious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to subvert the Power of the People and to usurp for themselves the reins of Government ; destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion.

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