Marcus Ward's history readers, ed. by J.G. [sic] Hefford, Nummer 3

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Pagina 174 - Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring ; The stubborn spearmen still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell. No thought was there of dastard flight ; Linked in the serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearlessly and well ; Till utter darkness closed her wing O'er their thin host and wounded king.
Pagina 217 - And tower and hamlet rose in arms o'er all the boundless plain ; Till Belvoir's lordly terraces the sign to Lincoln sent, And Lincoln sped the message on o'er the wide vale of Trent; Till Skiddaw saw the fire that burned on Gaunt's embattled pile, And the red glare on Skiddaw roused the burghers of Carlisle.
Pagina 181 - Cromwell, Cromwell, Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.
Pagina 173 - And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed and vast, and rolling far, The cloud enveloped Scotland's war As down the hill they broke ; Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, Announced their march ; their tread alone, At times one warning trumpet blown, At times a stifled hum, Told England, from his mountain-throne King James did rushing come.
Pagina 181 - Love thyself last; cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not; Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then, if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Pagina 174 - At length the freshening western blast Aside the shroud of battle cast; And first the ridge of mingled spears Above the brightening cloud appears; And in the smoke the pennons flew, As in the storm the white sea-mew. Then marked they, dashing broad and far, The broken billows of the war, And plumed crests of chieftains brave Floating like foam upon the wave...
Pagina 200 - Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man. We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.
Pagina 36 - To be more prince) as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. Arth. Mercy on me! Methinks, nobody should be sad but I : Yet, I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Only for wantonness. By my Christendom, So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long...
Pagina 37 - Have you the heart? When your head did but ache, I knit my handkerchief about your brows (The best I had, a princess wrought it me), And I did never ask it you again : And with my hand at midnight held your head ; And, like the watchful minutes to the hour, Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time; Saying, What lack you? and, Where lies your grief?
Pagina 37 - Or, what good love may I perform for you ? Many a poor man's son would have lain still, And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you ; But you at your sick service, had a prince. Nay, you may think, my love was crafty love, And call it cunning : Do, an if you will, If Heaven be pleased, that you must use me ill, Why, then you must.

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