The Modern Teacher: Essays on Educatioal Aims and Methods

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Archibald Watson Bain
Methuen, 1921 - 272 páginas
 

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Página 29 - Meanwhile the Tuscan army, Right glorious to behold, Came flashing back the noonday light, Rank behind rank, like surges bright Of a broad sea of gold. Four hundred trumpets sounded A peal of warlike glee, As that great host with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three. The Three stood calm and silent, And looked upon the foes, And a great shout of laughter From all the vanguard rose...
Página 27 - A wise son maketh a glad father: but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother.
Página 12 - These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air, And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind: we are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep..
Página 20 - Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines.
Página 6 - And as, year after year, Fresh products of their barren labour fall From their tired hands, and rest Never yet comes more near, Gloom settles slowly down over their breast. And while they try to stem The waves of mournful thought by which they are...
Página 8 - I am a part of all that I have met ; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use! As tho
Página 23 - Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singingman of Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife.
Página 8 - As for Venice and her people, merely born to bloom and drop, Here on earth, they bore their fruitage, mirth and folly were the crop: What of soul was left, I wonder, when the kissing had to stop? Dust and ashes!
Página 271 - And here we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and lively sacrifice unto thee...
Página 14 - And in this it is right, for the meaning of any beautiful created thing is, at least, as much in the soul of him who looks at it, as it was in his soul who wrought it.

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