Practical English Composition, 2. raamat

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Houghton Mifflin Company, 1916
 

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Page 17 - All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Page 70 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Page 75 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of our players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
Page 108 - I HOLD every man a debtor to his profession; from the which, as men of course do seek to receive countenance and profit, so ought they of duty to endeavour themselves, by way of amends, to be a help and ornament thereunto.
Page 70 - And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Page 62 - Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing A flowery band to bind us to the earth; Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth Of noble natures, of the gloomy days, Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all, Some shape of beauty moves away the pall From our dark spirits.
Page 17 - Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth.
Page 18 - With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side ; His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank ; and his big, manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange, eventful history, Is second childishness, and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.
Page 42 - in medias res', (Horace makes this the heroic turnpike road) And then your hero tells, whene'er you please, What went before — by way of episode, While seated after dinner at his ease, Beside his mistress in some soft abode, Palace, or garden, paradise, or cavern, Which serves the happy couple for a tavern.
Page 44 - Fierce warriors rushed to meet us; We met them and o'erthrew them: They struggled hard to beat us, But we conquered them, and slew them. As we drove our prize at leisure, The king marched forth to catch us: His rage surpassed all measure, But his people could not match us. He fled to his hall-pillars; And, ere our force we led off, Some sacked his house and cellars, While others cut his head off.

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