English, Irish, Scottish, Welsh Books

Showing: 91-100 results of 162

Men who compare themselves with their nearest neighbours are almost invariably conceited, speak boastingly of themselves, and disrespectfully of others. But if a man extend his survey, if he mingle largely with people whose feelings and opinions have been modified by quite different circumstances, the result is generally beneficial. The very act of accommodating his mind to foreign modes of thought... more...

I. THE WEST Beyond the moor and the mountain crest—Comrade, look not on the west—The sun is down and drinks awayFrom air and land the lees of day. The long cloud and the single pineSentinel the ending line,And out beyond it, clear and wan,Reach the gulfs of evening on. The son of woman turns his browWest from forty countries now,And, as the edge of heaven he eyes,Thinks eternal thoughts, and sighs.... more...

The Long View Some day of days! Some dawningyet to beI shall be clothed with immortality! And, in that day, I shall not greatly careThat Jane spilt candle grease upon thestair. It will not grieve me then, as once it did,That careless hands have chipped myteapot lid. I groan, being burdened. But, in thatglad day,I shall forget vexations of the way. That needs were often great, when meanswere small,Will... more...

The Rev. Mark J. McNeal, S. J., who was one of the successors of Lafcadio Hearn in the chair of English Literature at the Tokyo Imperial University, in an interesting article recounts the following incident of his experience in that institution. "I was seated on the examining board with Professor Ichikawa, the dean of the English department... There entered the room a student whom I recognized as... more...

THE SONG OF THE FLAG. I.Up with the country's flag!And let the winds caress it, fold on fold,—A stainless flag, and glorious to behold!It is our honour's pledge;It is the token of a truth sublime,A thing to die for, and to wonder at,When, on the shuddering edgeOf some great storm, it waves its woven joy,Which no man shall destroy,In shine or shower, in peace or battle-time.Up with the... more...

ATHENS AN ODEEre from under earth again like fire the violet kindle,[Str. 1. Ere the holy buds and hoar on olive-branches bloom,Ere the crescent of the last pale month of winter dwindle,Shrink, and fall as falls a dead leaf on the dead month's tomb,Round the hills whose heights the first-born olive-blossom brightened,Round the city brow-bound once with violets like a bride,Up from under earth... more...

“Arms and the man” was Virgil’s strain; But we propose in lighter vein To browse a crop from pastures (Green’s) Of England’s Evolution scenes. Who would from facts prognosticate The future progress of this State, Must own the chiefest fact to be Her escalator is the Sea.   HISTORIANS erudite and sage, When writing of the past stone age, Tell us man once was clothed in skins And tattooed... more...

ADVERTISEMENT. My Booksellers inform’d me, lately, that several inquiries had been made for ,—but that every copy had been sold;—they had been out of print these two years.—“Then publish them again,” said I, boldly,—(I print at my own risk)—and with an air of triumph. Messrs. Cadell and Davies advise’d me to make additions.—“The is, really, too short,” said Messrs. Cadell and... more...

MARSK STIG’S DAUGHTERS Two daughters fair the Marshal had,O grievous was their fate and sad. The eldest she took her sister’s handAnd away they went to Sweden’s land. Home from the Stevn King Byrgye rode;Up to him Marsk Stig’s daughters trode. “What women ye who beset my gate?What brings ye hither at eve so late?” “Daughters of Stig, the Marshal brave,So earnestly thee for help we... more...

by: Various
1. ALL THAT'S PAST   Very old are the woods;    And the buds that break  Out of the briar's boughs,    When March winds wake,  So old with their beauty are—    Oh, no man knows  Through what wild centuries    Roves back the rose.   Very old are the brooks;    And the rills that rise  Where snow sleeps cold beneath    The azure skies  Sing such a... more...