Routledge's readings, selected and arranged by E. RoutledgeEdmund Routledge 1871 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 8
Page 25
... passed along . And anon the bell - the bell she had so often heard , by night and day , and listened to with solemn pleasure almost as a living voice - rang its remorse- less toll , for her , so young , so beautiful , so good . Decrepit ...
... passed along . And anon the bell - the bell she had so often heard , by night and day , and listened to with solemn pleasure almost as a living voice - rang its remorse- less toll , for her , so young , so beautiful , so good . Decrepit ...
Page 28
... passed their lips , he fell down among them like a murdered man . For many hours they had little hopes of his surviv- ing ; but grief is strong , and he recovered . If there be any who have never known the blank that follows death ...
... passed their lips , he fell down among them like a murdered man . For many hours they had little hopes of his surviv- ing ; but grief is strong , and he recovered . If there be any who have never known the blank that follows death ...
Page 31
... passed , and lose them in the hollow distance , he would lie and watch the many - coloured ring about the candle , and wait pa- tiently for day . His only trouble was , the swift and rapid river . He felt forced , sometimes , to try to ...
... passed , and lose them in the hollow distance , he would lie and watch the many - coloured ring about the candle , and wait pa- tiently for day . His only trouble was , the swift and rapid river . He felt forced , sometimes , to try to ...
Page 32
... passing and re- passing ; and would fall asleep , or be troubled with a restless and uneasy sense again - the child could hardly tell whether this were in his sleeping or his waking moments - of that rushing river . " Why will it never ...
... passing and re- passing ; and would fall asleep , or be troubled with a restless and uneasy sense again - the child could hardly tell whether this were in his sleeping or his waking moments - of that rushing river . " Why will it never ...
Page 45
... passed with breathless speed ; Voices and cries he heard but did not heed , Until at last he reached the banquet - room , Blazing with light , and breathing with perfume . There on the dais sat another king , Wearing his robes , his ...
... passed with breathless speed ; Voices and cries he heard but did not heed , Until at last he reached the banquet - room , Blazing with light , and breathing with perfume . There on the dais sat another king , Wearing his robes , his ...
Other editions - View all
Routledge's Readings, Selected and Arranged by E. Routledge Edmund Routledge No preview available - 2019 |
Common terms and phrases
ALFRED TENNYSON Alice the nurse Allen-a-Dale Angel arms BATTLE OF WATERLOO bless bosom breast breath bright brow call me early CHARLES DICKENS child CHLORODYNE cried dark dead death Dendermond door Dora EDWIN WAUGH eyes face father fear feet fell flowers Floy galloped gazed glad New-year grave hall hand head hear heard heart Heaven honour King Robert kiss Lady Clara Vere Lady Clare laughed Learn to labour light lips Lochiel Lochinvar look look'd Lord FRANCIS CONYNGHAM Lord Ronald morning mother dear N. P. WILLIS never night o'er pray prayer Queen river Lee rode rose round rushed Saint Peter's Square Shandon silence smiled snow soul sound steed stood sweet tears tell thee thou thought thunder to-morrow told trembling Trim twas uncle Toby Vere de Vere voice wall watched wave wild wind word young
Popular passages
Page 55 - THERE is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead ; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient!
Page 67 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Page 57 - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page 18 - Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'tis only noble to be good; Kind hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith than Norman blood.
Page 51 - BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Page 159 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more...
Page 82 - Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve — The music and the doleful tale, The rich and balmy eve ; And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistinguishable throng ; And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long ! She wept with pity and delight. She blushed with love and virgin shame ; And like the murmur of a dream I heard her breathe my name.
Page 156 - The dust, like smoke from the cannon's mouth, Or the trail of a comet, sweeping faster and faster, Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster. The heart of the steed and the heart of the master Were beating like prisoners...
Page 15 - Stormed at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well; Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred.
Page 161 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide, And now I am come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine ; There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.