Historical reader, Ausgabe 4

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Seite 146 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Seite 165 - Cayzer, TS One Thousand ArithMETICAL TESTS, or THE EXAMINER'S ASSISTANT. Specially adapted, by a novel arrangement of the subject, for Examination Purposes, but also suited for general use in Schools. By TS CAYZER, Head Master in Queen Elizabeth's Hospital.
Seite 147 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him — But little he'll reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring ; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we...
Seite 146 - 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 13 - The diligence of trades and noiseful gain, And luxury more late, asleep were laid : All was the night's ; and in her silent reign No sound the rest of nature did invade.
Seite 38 - ... Friars to London Bridge, and to the forest of masts below. As the news spread, streets and squares, marketplaces and coffeehouses, broke forth into acclamations. Yet were the acclamations less strange than the weeping. For the feelings of men had been wound up to such a point that at length the stern English nature, so little used to outward signs of emotion, gave way, and thousands sobbed aloud for very joy. Meanwhile, from the outskirts of the multitude horsemen were spurring off to bear along...
Seite 133 - With dying hand the rudder held, Till, in his fall, with fateful sway, The steerage of the realm gave way ! Then, while on Britain's thousand plains One unpolluted church remains, Whose peaceful bells ne'er sent around The bloody tocsin's maddening sound, But still, upon the hallowed day, Convoke the swains to praise and pray ; While faith and civil peace are dear, Grace this cold marble with a tear, — He, who preserved them, Pitt, lies here ! renovate, renew ; make new or fresh.
Seite 141 - Again ! again ! again ! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back; — Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail, Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
Seite 167 - DARNELL'S LARGE POST COPY-BOOKS; A Short and Certain Road to a Good Handwriting. 16 Nos., 6d. each. Being a Series of SIXTEEN COPY BOOKS, by GEORGE DARNELL, the first ten of which have on every alternate line appropriate and carefully written copies in Pencil-coloured Ink, to be first written over and then imitated, the remaining numbers having Black Head-lines for imitation only, THE WHOLE GRADUALLY ADVANCING FROM A SIMPLE STROKE TO A SUPERIOR SMALL HAND.
Seite 147 - We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.

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