Moffatt's pupil teachers' course (ed. by T. Page). Candidates, 2nd (-4th) year. (-4th) year, Band 1

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Seite 291 - And Gilpin, long live he; And when he next doth ride abroad, May I be there to see ! AN EPISTLE TO A PROTESTANT LADY IN FRANCE.
Seite 291 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free, fair Homes of England ! Long, long, in hut and hall, May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallowed wall! And green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God !* THE SICILIAN CAPTIVE.
Seite 295 - Revenge is a kind of wild justice, which the more man's nature runs to, the more ought law to weed it out. For as for the first wrong, it doth but offend the law ; but the revenge of that wrong putteth the law out of office.
Seite 296 - Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition, there to dwell In adamantine chains and penal fire, Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms.
Seite 288 - 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 303 - And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land ; It was the sound of the trampling surf, On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.
Seite 291 - Time hath, my lord, a wallet at his back, Wherein he puts alms for oblivion, A great-sized monster of ingratitudes : Those scraps are good deeds past : which are devour'd As fast as they are made, forgot as soon As done...
Seite 302 - Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so; For I can weather the roughest gale, That ever wind did blow.' He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat, Against the stinging blast ; He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. 'O father! I hear the church-bells ring, O say, what may it be?
Seite 304 - At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed, On the billows fall and rise.
Seite 297 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.

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