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appearance Assyria beautiful become called character close Club Composition contains copy death denotes earth eyes fall feel feet five four friends give hand head heart HISTORY hour hundred illustrated Inflection instruction interesting kind king land learned leave letters light living look loud manner maps marked means miles mind morning mother nature never officer once original passage passed pause person position present published questions reader received require rise river round SCHOOLMATE seen sent sentence side slow soft sometimes soon speaking speech stand STREET teachers thing thought tone trees turned United voice volume whole wish York young youth
Página 342 - OFTEN I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea ; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still : " A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Página 324 - Have mercy upon me, O God, According to thy loving kindness: According to the multitude of thy tender mercies Blot out my transgressions.
Página 79 - Disaster'd stands; sees other hills ascend, Of unknown joyless brow; and other scenes, Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain: Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid Beneath the formless wild; but wanders on From hill to dale, still more and more astray; Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, Stung with the thoughts of home; the thoughts of home Rush on his nerves, and call their vigour forth In many a vain attempt.
Página 80 - Smooth'd up with snow; and what is land, unknown, What water, of the still unfrozen spring, In the loose marsh or solitary lake, Where the fresh fountain from the bottom boils.
Página 264 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
Página 244 - The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scattered long ago ; The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now ; The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers : dost thou flow, Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.
Página 263 - He comes amidst the pomp and fragrance of the season ; his life seems all sensibility and enjoyment, all song and sunshine. He is to be found in the soft bosoms of the freshest and sweetest meadows, and is most in song when the clover is in blossom.
Página 331 - Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.