Foundation Lessons in English, Book 2

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Page 188 - The war is actually begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? — PATRICK HENRY.
Page 105 - Each morning sees some task begun, Each evening sees it close! Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought LONGFELLOW.
Page 188 - There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who will raise np friends to fight our battles for us. Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it; it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery.
Page 193 - Cromwell, I did not think to shed a tear in all my miseries; but thou hast forced me out of thine honest truth to play the woman. Let's dry our eyes, and thus far hear me, Cromwell, Mark but my fall and that that
Page 82 - By angel's hands to valor given ; Thy stars have lit the welkin dome, And all thy hues were born in heaven. Forever float that standard sheet! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our
Page 129 - The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o'er the glen their level way; Each purple peak, each flinty spire, Was bathed in floods of living fire. But not a setting beam could glow Within the dark ravines below, Where twined the path in shadow hid, Bound many a rocky pyramid.
Page 188 - Besides, sir, we have no election. If we were base enough to desire it; it is now too late to retire from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and slavery. The war is
Page 220 - the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, When can their glory fade ? O, the wild charge they made! All the world wondered. Honor the charge they made! Honor the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred! — TENNYSON. The
Page 158 - THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed; And the heavy night hung dark
Page 93 - BRYANT. Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, And still where many a garden flower grows wild, There where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. — GOLDSMITH.

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