Boekgegevens
Titel: Nieuw Engelsch lees-, leer- en vertaalboek voor eerstbeginnenden
Auteur: Lagerwey, J.; Ludolph, L.J.C.
Uitgave: Gorinchem: J. Noorduyn en zoon, 1863
5e, verb. dr.
Auteursrechten: Zie auteursrechten
Citeerinstructie: Bijzondere Collecties van de Universiteit van Amsterdam, UBM: Obr. 5818
URL: http://schoolmuseum.uba.uva.nl/bookid/LCSM_201183
Onderwerp: Taal- en letterkunde naar afzonderlijke talen: Engelse taalkunde
Trefwoord: Engels, Leermiddelen (vorm)
Bekijk als:      
Scan: Afbeeldinggrootte:
   Nieuw Engelsch lees-, leer- en vertaalboek voor eerstbeginnenden
Vorige scan Volgende scanScanned page
177
3.
5ut thy strength is no more,
Lnd thy beauty is fled,
!ind thy swift course is o'er;
lou, my lov'd steed, art dead!
And a sign there is not.
To the passer-by telling.
Where is the sad spot
Of thy last lonely dwelling!
Anonymous.
Winter-smg.
1.
2.
Fierce whirlwinds are roaring,
l;0ud torrents are pouring.
The snow-flakes in clouds seem
to fly;
Cleft mountains are moaning,
Split forests are groaning.
The storm-fiend rides wild through
the sky!
Yet trouble dispelling.
While safe in his dwelling,
The cottager terror derides —
Neither earth, air, nor ocean.
Can raise an emotion
In bosoms, where virtue resides.
Dimond.
The Tear of paternal Love.
Some feelings are to mortals given,
With less of earth in them than
heaven;
And if there be a human tear.
From passion's dross refined and
clear,
A tear so limpid and so meek.
It would not stain an angel's cheek,
'T is that which pious fathers shed
Upon a duteous daughter's head !
Scott.
Morning-Praise to God.
1.
2.
The lark, now high soaring in the air.
Salutes the first blush of the morn;
And the roses new^ incense prepare,
To breathe on the dew-dropping
thorn;
Fresh feelings instinctively spring
In the steer, as he turns up the clod,
t And creation itself seems to sing
I In the honour and glory of God.
In what sensual mazes withheld.
Is man now unhappily lost!
In the rage of what passions impell'd;
On the sea of what vice is he tost!
0! instantly let him proclaim,
What the herbage all tells on the sod;
And if gratitude cannot, let shame
Awake the praises of God.
L
J