School-days of Eminent Men: I. Sketches of the Progress of Education in England, from the Reign of King Alfred to that of Queen Victoria. II. Early Lives of Celebrated British Authors, Philosophers and Poets, Inventors and Discoverers, Divines, Heroes, Statesmen and Legislators

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Follett, Foster, 1860 - Počet stran: 309
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Strana 187 - Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed : Teach me to die, that so I may Rise glorious at the awful day.
Strana 187 - WAKE, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run, Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise To pay thy morning sacrifice...
Strana 217 - A stranger yet to pain ! I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Strana 192 - I do not know what I may appear to the world, but to myself I seem to have been only like a boy playing on the sea-shore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, whilst the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me.
Strana 116 - Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested...
Strana 116 - Reading maketh a full man; conference a ready man; and writing an exact man. And therefore, if a man write little, he had need have a great memory; if he confer little, he had need have a present wit: and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not.
Strana 173 - I found everywhere there (though my understanding had little to do with all this); and by degrees with the tinkling of the rhyme and dance of the numbers, so that I think I had read him all over before I was twelve years old, and was thus made a poet as immediately as a child is made an eunuch.
Strana 216 - Windsor's heights th' expanse below Of grove, of lawn, of mead survey, Whose turf, whose shade, whose flowers among Wanders the hoary Thames along His silver-winding way.
Strana 217 - Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race Disporting on thy margent green The paths of pleasure trace, Who foremost now delight to cleave With pliant arm thy glassy wave?
Strana 173 - Even when I was a very young boy at school, instead of running about on holidays and playing with my fellows, I was wont to steal from them and walk into the fields, either alone with a book, or with some one companion, if I could find any of the same temper.

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