An Elementary Indian Reader: Designed for the Use of Students in the Anglo Vernacular Schools in India

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Wm. H. Allen, 1877 - 182 Seiten
 

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Seite 182 - Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us, Footprints on the sands of time; Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.
Seite 30 - But the nightingale, another of my airy creatures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her little instrumental throat, that it might make mankind to think miracles are not ceased.
Seite 181 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Seite 168 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Seite 168 - THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corpse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot, O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Seite 145 - As for me, I am the friend of the gods and of good men, an agreeable companion to the artizan, an household guardian to the fathers of families, a patron and protector of servants, an associate in all true and generous friendships. The banquets of my votaries are never costly, but always delicious ; for none eat or drink at them who are not invited by hunger and thirst. Their slumbers are sound, and their wakings cheerful. My young men have the pleasure of hearing themselves praised by those who...
Seite 168 - No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet, nor in shroud, we wound him ; But he lay, like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Seite 113 - ... nations. The Russian gunners, when the storm of cavalry passed, returned to their guns. They saw their own cavalry mingled with the troopers who had just ridden over them, and, to the eternal disgrace of the Russian name, the miscreants poured a murderous volley of grape and canister on the mass of struggling men and horses, mingling friend and foe in one common ruin ! It...
Seite 23 - I saw you last ; by no means, replied the sculptor, I have retouched this part, and polished that; I have softened this feature, and brought out this muscle ; I have given more expression to this lip and more energy to this limb : Well, well, said his friend, but all these are trifles ; it may be so, replied Angelo, but recollect that trifles make perfection, and that perfection is no trifle.
Seite 150 - I had now a mind to try how many cobwebs a single spider could furnish, wherefore I destroyed this, and the insect set about another. When I destroyed the other also, its whole stock seemed entirely exhausted, and it could spin no more. The arts it made use of to support itself, now deprived of its great means of subsistence, were indeed surprising. I have seen it roll up its legs like a ball, and lie motionless for hours together, but cautiously watching all the time ; when a fly happened to approach...

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