Polyglot Reader, and Guide for Translation: Consisting of a Series of English Extracts, with Their Translation Into French, German, Spanish, and Italian, [the Several Parts Designed to Serve as Mutual Keys]. English Text

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D. Appleton and Company, 1868
 

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Populaire passages

Pagina 260 - For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe: You call me misbeliever, cut-throat, dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own. Well then, it now appears, you need my help; Go to, then; you come to me, and you say, Shylock, we would have moneys...
Pagina 275 - Jane : In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain, And then she went away "So in the churchyard she was laid; And, when the grass was dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. "And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.
Pagina 275 - Then did the little maid reply/ " Seven boys and girls are we; two of us in the churchyard lie/ beneath the churchyard tree.
Pagina 277 - Come in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake shock, the ocean storm ; Come when the heart beats high and warm, With banquet-song, and dance, and wine ; And thou art terrible — the tear, The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know or dream or fear Of agony, are thine.
Pagina 141 - I WAS ever of opinion, that the honest man who married, and brought up a large family, did more service than he who continued single, and only talked of population.
Pagina 261 - No war, or battle's sound Was heard the world around ; The idle spear and shield were high up hung ; The hooked chariot stood Unstained with hostile blood ; The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; And kings sat still with awful eye, As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by.
Pagina 278 - But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be.
Pagina 277 - Strike — till the last armed foe expires; Strike — for your altars and your fires; Strike — for the green graves of your sires, God — and your native land!
Pagina 274 - Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Pagina 263 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see ; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.

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