The Jones Fifth ReaderGinn, 1903 - 496 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 30
Page 30
... waves dark round the dim - lighted hall ; With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded , 10 And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts , at deep midnight , the torches are gleaming ; In the proudly arched chapel ...
... waves dark round the dim - lighted hall ; With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded , 10 And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts , at deep midnight , the torches are gleaming ; In the proudly arched chapel ...
Page 50
... wave in redundant life . And the weeds are not all . 5 I awake in the morning ( and a thriving garden will wake a person up two hours before he ought to be out of bed ) and think of the tomato plants , the leaves like fine lace work ...
... wave in redundant life . And the weeds are not all . 5 I awake in the morning ( and a thriving garden will wake a person up two hours before he ought to be out of bed ) and think of the tomato plants , the leaves like fine lace work ...
Page 57
... waves of the sea were roaring in my ears , and the lights were going up and down . " Are you man or spirit ? " cried Rolfe through white lips . " Are you Ralph Percy ? " " Yes , I am Percy , " I said. " He is dead , Master Rolfe , " he ...
... waves of the sea were roaring in my ears , and the lights were going up and down . " Are you man or spirit ? " cried Rolfe through white lips . " Are you Ralph Percy ? " " Yes , I am Percy , " I said. " He is dead , Master Rolfe , " he ...
Page 91
... wave upon the desert , and I greeted them as the mariner at sea greets the South 5 in the bough of blossoms floating by him . The strip of green land passed , and we entered upon pure Sahara . It was the softest , most powdery sand ...
... wave upon the desert , and I greeted them as the mariner at sea greets the South 5 in the bough of blossoms floating by him . The strip of green land passed , and we entered upon pure Sahara . It was the softest , most powdery sand ...
Page 115
... waves broke wildest and its voice rose loudest . I have passed whole seasons on the banks of mighty and famous rivers . I have dwelt on the margin of a tranquil lake , and floated through many a long , long summer day on its clear ...
... waves broke wildest and its voice rose loudest . I have passed whole seasons on the banks of mighty and famous rivers . I have dwelt on the margin of a tranquil lake , and floated through many a long , long summer day on its clear ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Abridged American Anchises arms azalea battle beauty bees BELL OF ATRI bells birds Boabdil born brave Brutus Cæsar called cloud cold dark death deep Don Quixote earth England English eyes famous father feet fell fire flower forest French friends gray ground hand hath head hear heard heart heaven HENRY TIMROD hill honey honor Hoopoe horse hour king land light live look Lord marsh marshes of Glynn mountain never night noble NOTE o'er once passed peace Peisthetairus Pickwick poems poet RALPH WALDO EMERSON rest sail Saladin Sancho Sancho Panza Scrooge selection is taken Shakespeare smile soul sound Spanish real stood story sweet sword thee things THOMAS STARR KING thou thought tongue trees tube turned voice waves WILLIAM WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE wind woods word young
Popular passages
Page 318 - Thy soul was like a star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
Page 496 - Pr'ythee, lead me in : There take an inventory of all I have, To the last penny : 'tis the king's : my robe, And my integrity to heaven, is all I dare now call mine own. O Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Page 495 - Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition: By that sin fell the angels. How can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it?
Page 79 - Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the earth and sky, Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing. Then Beauty is its own excuse for being: Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! I never thought to ask, I never knew; But in my simple ignorance suppose The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.
Page 402 - Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ; The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; The traces, of the smallest spider's web ; The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams...
Page 364 - If you have tears prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle : I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on ; 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii : Look, in this place ran Cassius...
Page 225 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave — alas ! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valor, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.
Page 362 - 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 ? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! — Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause, till it come back to me.
Page 185 - When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand, The symbol of her chosen land.
Page 458 - Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper ? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength : He goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted ; Neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, The glittering spear and the shield.