Classic Latin Course in English

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Flood and Vincent, 1893 - Latin literature - 298 pages
 

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Page 290 - On what foundation stands the warrior's pride? How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide; A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, No dangers fright him, and no labours tire...
Page 294 - Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
Page 291 - While ladies interpose, and slaves debate. But did not Chance at length her error mend? Did no subverted empire mark his end? Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? Or hostile millions press him to the ground? His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, A petty fortress, and a dubious hand; He left the name, at which the world grew pale To point a moral, or adorn a tale.
Page 102 - His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine, And settled sure succession in his line, From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome.
Page 141 - ... him, and in proportion to his degree in that we are to admire him. No author or man ever excelled all the world in more than one faculty : and as Homer has done this in invention, Virgil has in judgment. Not...
Page 268 - Rejoices with a wholesome fear, And hopes in spite of pain ; If Winter bellow from the north, Soon the sweet Spring comes dancing forth, And Nature laughs again. What if thine Heaven be overcast, The dark appearance will not last ; Expect a brighter sky. The God that strings the silver bow Awakes sometimes the muses too, And lays his arrows by.
Page 268 - He that holds fast the golden mean, And lives contentedly between The little and the great...
Page 269 - AND is this all ? Can Reason do no more Than bid me shun the deep, and dread the shore ? Sweet moralist ! afloat on life's rough sea, The Christian has an art unknown to thee : He holds no parley with unmanly fears ; Where Duty bids he confidently steers, Faces a thousand dangers at her call, And, trusting in his God, surmounts them all.
Page 99 - While yet the spring is young, while earth unbinds Her frozen bosom to the western winds ; While mountain snows dissolve against the sun, And streams yet new, from precipices run ; E'en in this early dawning of the year, Produce the plough, and yoke the sturdy steer, And goad him till he groans beneath his toil, Till the bright share is buried in the soil.
Page 98 - What makes a plenteous harvest, when to turn The fruitful soil, and when to sow the corn; The care of sheep, of oxen, and of kine, And how to raise on elms the teeming vine; The birth and genius of the frugal bee, I sing, Maecenas, and I sing to thee.

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