The Laurel Speaker: Heroic Classic Verse for Boys |
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Page 18
... rush to glory , or the grave ! Wave , Munich , all thy banners wave And charge with all thy chivalry . Ah ! few shall part where many meet , The snow shall be their winding - sheet . And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a ...
... rush to glory , or the grave ! Wave , Munich , all thy banners wave And charge with all thy chivalry . Ah ! few shall part where many meet , The snow shall be their winding - sheet . And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a ...
Page 35
... the Potomac to - night— No sound save the rush of the river ; While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead- The picket's off duty forever . THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE . ALFRED TENNYSON . THE LAUREL SPEAKER 35.
... the Potomac to - night— No sound save the rush of the river ; While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead- The picket's off duty forever . THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE . ALFRED TENNYSON . THE LAUREL SPEAKER 35.
Page 113
... rush on the tiger , with signs of rage . Eager the deadly fight to wage , Who , fierce , with paws uplifted stood , And the lion sprang up with an awful roar . Then were still the fearful four : And the monsters on the ground Crouched ...
... rush on the tiger , with signs of rage . Eager the deadly fight to wage , Who , fierce , with paws uplifted stood , And the lion sprang up with an awful roar . Then were still the fearful four : And the monsters on the ground Crouched ...
Page 135
... Rush at them unawares , Right down the narrow dell . The boy turned round with screams , And ran with terror wild ; One of the pair of savage beasts Pursued the shrieking child . The hunter raised his gun , - He knew one charge was all ...
... Rush at them unawares , Right down the narrow dell . The boy turned round with screams , And ran with terror wild ; One of the pair of savage beasts Pursued the shrieking child . The hunter raised his gun , - He knew one charge was all ...
Page 151
... rush on in plunging pride ; But where are they the reins to guide ? A thousand horse , and none to ride ! With flowing tail , and flying mane , Wide nostrils , never stretched by pain , Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein , And feet ...
... rush on in plunging pride ; But where are they the reins to guide ? A thousand horse , and none to ride ! With flowing tail , and flying mane , Wide nostrils , never stretched by pain , Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein , And feet ...
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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.