The Laurel Speaker: Heroic Classic Verse for Boys |
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Page 8
... blue skies behind , lighting up classic shrines , And music in the southern wind , and sunshine on the vines . The breathings of the myrtle - flowers have floated o'er my way , The pilgrim's voice , at vesper - hours , hath soothed me ...
... blue skies behind , lighting up classic shrines , And music in the southern wind , and sunshine on the vines . The breathings of the myrtle - flowers have floated o'er my way , The pilgrim's voice , at vesper - hours , hath soothed me ...
Page 14
... blue Bullets flew , And the trooper - jackets redden at the touch of the leaden Rifle - breath . And rounder , rounder , rounder , roared the iron six - pounder , Hurling death ! FALL OF WARSAW , 1794 THOMAS CAMPBELL . O ! sacred Truth ...
... blue Bullets flew , And the trooper - jackets redden at the touch of the leaden Rifle - breath . And rounder , rounder , rounder , roared the iron six - pounder , Hurling death ! FALL OF WARSAW , 1794 THOMAS CAMPBELL . O ! sacred Truth ...
Page 28
... , they say , are traitors now ; They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane , our old red , white , and blue , And while a drop of blood is left , I'll show that drop is true . I'm not so weak but I can strike , and 28 THE LAUREL SPEAKER.
... , they say , are traitors now ; They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane , our old red , white , and blue , And while a drop of blood is left , I'll show that drop is true . I'm not so weak but I can strike , and 28 THE LAUREL SPEAKER.
Page 32
... wet . I can think of one or two , that would wipe A drop or so from a soft blue eye , To see me sit , and puff at my pipe , With a hundred death's heads grinning hard by · And I wonder , when this has all passed o 32 THE LAUREL SPEAKER.
... wet . I can think of one or two , that would wipe A drop or so from a soft blue eye , To see me sit , and puff at my pipe , With a hundred death's heads grinning hard by · And I wonder , when this has all passed o 32 THE LAUREL SPEAKER.
Page 43
... blue September day Just thrilled by waking dreams of frost , When our five vessels made their way Northward along the Scottish coast ; The Bon Homme Richard staunch and true- Deep - scarred in desperate battle scenes- The Alliance with ...
... blue September day Just thrilled by waking dreams of frost , When our five vessels made their way Northward along the Scottish coast ; The Bon Homme Richard staunch and true- Deep - scarred in desperate battle scenes- The Alliance with ...
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Common terms and phrases
arms Avès Balaklava banner battle battle's bloody marge beneath Bingen blood blue bonnet of Bonny Bonny Dundee bound brave breath broadswords of old Cannon charge cold Color-Ser cried cuirassier Danny Deever darkness dead death dread dream dying fear fell fierce fight fire flame flash flew forest gallant galloped geant gleam glory grave gray Grigalach guns haloo hand hangin hear heard heart Heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Hiawatha hill horse hurrah JOHN GIBSON LOCKHART King land Laughing light limbs look lord Marmion mighty Minnehaha Morbleu morning Moscow mount night o'er Old North Church old Scotland onward Parbleu Paul Revere proud ride roar ROBERT SOUTHEY rode rolled rose round rush sabre screw-guns Sheridan shout sight SILVER-SHOE SIR WALTER SCOTT six hundred soldier soul spur steed stood storm tell There's THOMAS CAMPBELL thunder Twas wave wild wind wounded
Popular passages
Page 133 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped 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 hailed the wretch who won.
Page 105 - We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow. Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him, — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Page 68 - I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he; I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three; "Good speed!" cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew; "Speed!
Page 55 - Up from the south at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble and rumble and roar Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away.
Page 100 - You know, we French stormed Ratisbon : A mile or so away On a little mound, Napoleon Stood on our storming-day ; With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. Just as perhaps he mused, " My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall...
Page 66 - It was one by the village clock When he galloped into Lexington. He saw the gilded weathercock Swim in the moonlight as he passed, And the meeting-house windows blank and bare Gaze at him with a spectral glare As if they already stood aghast At the bloody work they would look upon. It was two by the village clock When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
Page 67 - You know the rest. In the books you have read How the British Regulars fired and fled, — How the farmers gave them ball for ball. From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, Chasing the redcoats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load.
Page 63 - Good night!" and with muffled oar Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay. Where swinging wide at her moorings lay The Somerset, British man-of-war; A phantom ship, with each mast and spar Across the moon like a prison bar, And a huge black hulk, that was magnified By its own reflection in the tide.
Page 192 - THE muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo ; No more on life's parade shall meet That brave and fallen few. On fame's eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spread, And glory guards, with solemn round, The bivouac of the dead.
Page 27 - Twas autumn — and sunshine arose on the way To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young ; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung.