Every Boy's Annual1869 |
Inhalt
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| 180 | |
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| 213 | |
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| 543 | |
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| 576 | |
| 593 | |
| 607 | |
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| 659 | |
| 676 | |
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| 698 | |
Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
acid animal arms battery beautiful boats butterfly called captain chamois Charley chemical coil colour copper cricket dark dhow Dick dissolved doctor electric elephant Experiment eyes face fear feet fire force forest Fred friends Gaboon give glacier glass gorilla Gotzloff hand Hawsepipe head heard heart hour ibex inches iron Jacko king leopard light liquid look magnesium magnet Marlborough metal Monte Rosa morning mouth naphtha natives needle never nigger night nitrate nitric acid north pole once passed piece plate pole princesses river roar round sail sailors seemed seen ship side silver snow solution soon south pole steel sulphate sulphuric acid thing thought town tree turn Uly's vessel whole wind wire word young zinc
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 319 - Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, And take the present horror from the time, Which now suits with it.
Seite 164 - I AM monarch of all I survey, My right there is none to dispute ; From the centre all round to the sea I am lord of the fowl and the brute.
Seite 78 - A strange fish ! Were I in England now (as once I was), and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver : there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man : when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will 30 lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man ! and his fins like arms ! Warm, o...
Seite 507 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of leer, rolling rapidly.
Seite 575 - O'er Longleat's towers, o'er Cranbourne's oaks, the fiery herald flew: He roused the shepherds of Stonehenge, the rangers of Beaulieu.
Seite 603 - The broken sheds look'd sad and strange : Unlifted was the clinking latch ; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, ' My life is dreary, He Cometh not...
Seite 444 - Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased ; Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow ; Raze out the written troubles of the brain ; And, with some sweet, oblivious antidote, Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff, Which weighs upon the heart ? Doct.
Seite 572 - Hark, hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty is, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise.
Seite 444 - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude ; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude.
Seite 574 - 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.