The Fifth Progressive Reader, 5±ÇP.O?Shea, 1878 |
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87 ÆäÀÌÁö
... Cross For us poured forth his blood : Thus man shall ever venerate This relic of the flood . 8. " Though now a witness to the wrath Of the dread God above , Changed by my chisel , it shall be The emblem3 of His love . " 9. That night ...
... Cross For us poured forth his blood : Thus man shall ever venerate This relic of the flood . 8. " Though now a witness to the wrath Of the dread God above , Changed by my chisel , it shall be The emblem3 of His love . " 9. That night ...
102 ÆäÀÌÁö
... crosses , at once . One moment comes laden with its own little burden , then flies , and is succeeded by another no heavier than the last : if one could be sustained , so can another , and another . 14. Even in looking forward to a ...
... crosses , at once . One moment comes laden with its own little burden , then flies , and is succeeded by another no heavier than the last : if one could be sustained , so can another , and another . 14. Even in looking forward to a ...
104 ÆäÀÌÁö
... Crosses himself , and sighs , alas ! With sorrowful voice to all that pass , - " Forever - never ! Never - forever ! " 3. By day its voice is low and light ; But in the silent dead of night , Distinct as a passing footstep's fall , It ...
... Crosses himself , and sighs , alas ! With sorrowful voice to all that pass , - " Forever - never ! Never - forever ! " 3. By day its voice is low and light ; But in the silent dead of night , Distinct as a passing footstep's fall , It ...
140 ÆäÀÌÁö
... , And steeled to cruelty by lust of gold , Traversed the waves , the unknown world explored , The cross their standard , but their faith the sword , Their steps were graves ; o'er prostrate realms they trod 140 THE FIFTH READER .
... , And steeled to cruelty by lust of gold , Traversed the waves , the unknown world explored , The cross their standard , but their faith the sword , Their steps were graves ; o'er prostrate realms they trod 140 THE FIFTH READER .
154 ÆäÀÌÁö
... cross , so receive me unto the arms of Thy mercy , and forgive my sins . " 7. " Madam , " said the Earl of Kent , " you had better leave such popish trumperies , and bear Him in your heart . " She replied , " I cannot hold in my hand ...
... cross , so receive me unto the arms of Thy mercy , and forgive my sins . " 7. " Madam , " said the Earl of Kent , " you had better leave such popish trumperies , and bear Him in your heart . " She replied , " I cannot hold in my hand ...
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Acadian accent adoration altar arms Babylon Basil beauty behold breath Brodir c©¡sura called Catholic Celt Christ Christian Church crown death earth emphasis emphatical word Euphrates Evangeline EXAMPLES eyes face faith falling inflection Father forest Gabriel gaze gold Grand-Pré hand happy heard heart heaven Hernando de Soto Herodotus hight holy Hope hundred Indian Ireland island Jerusalem Jesuits king labor land light look lord loud maiden Medes Monk morning mountains natives nature night o'er pal©¡stra pause person Peter the Hermit prayer priest pronounced pronunciation prose Rip Van Winkle rising inflection river rose round RULE Saxon seemed sense sentence shore silent smile sorrow soul sound Spaniards speak spirit stood stream sweet sword syllable tears thee THOMAS À BECKET thou thought throne tion tone trees Tumbez verse village voice walls wonder youth
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276 ÆäÀÌÁö - There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school ; A man severe he was, and stern to view, I knew him well, and every truant knew...
270 ÆäÀÌÁö - The dancing pair that simply sought renown, By holding out, to tire each other down...
107 ÆäÀÌÁö - He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn, but it too was gone. A large rickety wooden building stood in its place, with great gaping windows, some of them broken and mended with old hats and petticoats, and over the door was painted, " The Union Hotel, by Jonathan Doolittle." Instead of the great tree that used to shelter the quiet little Dutch inn of yore, there now was reared a tall, naked pole, with something on the top that looked like a red night-cap, and from it...
110 ÆäÀÌÁö - Rip looked and beheld a precise counterpart of himself as he went up the mountain, apparently as lazy and certainly as ragged. The poor fellow was now completely confounded. He doubted his own identity, and whether he was himself or another man. In the midst of his bewilderment, the man in the cocked hat demanded who he was, and what was his name. "God knows," exclaimed he, at his wit's end; "I'm not myself.
275 ÆäÀÌÁö - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all: And, as a bird each fond endearment tries, To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
276 ÆäÀÌÁö - To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given, But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm...
269 ÆäÀÌÁö - How often have I blest the coming day, When toil remitting lent its turn to play, And all the village train, from labour free, Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree, While many a pastime circled in the shade, The young contending as the old surveyed; And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, And sleights of art and feats of strength went round.
278 ÆäÀÌÁö - Imagination fondly stoops to trace The parlour splendours of that festive place : The whitewashed wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnished clock that clicked behind the door: The chest contrived a double debt to pay, A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day ; The pictures placed for ornament and use, The twelve good rules...
107 ÆäÀÌÁö - He recognized on the sign, however, the ruby face of King George, under which he had smoked so many a peaceful pipe ; but even this was singularly metamorphosed.
274 ÆäÀÌÁö - She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn, To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn; She only left of all the harmless train, The sad historian of the pensive plain.