English Journal, Volume 5National Council of Teachers of English, 1916 |
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Palavras e frases frequentes
American Association of Teachers better boys cents City classics classroom co-operation Colgate University Columbia University committee conference Council of Teachers course criticism discussion drama Edited elementary English Journal English teachers essays experience expression formal grammar Freshman girls give given grade graduate grammar High School Hosic ideals ideas Illinois illustrations including postage instructor interest Lake Forest College language librarian literary literature magazine material meeting method Miss National Council Normal School Northwestern High School oral organization paper Pilgrim's Progress play poems poetry practical preparation present principles problem Professor punctuation pupils question reading rhetoric selected sentence Shakespeare single copies speech spelling story suggestions Teachers of English teaching themes things thought tion topics University of Chicago University of Kansas WALTER BARNES words writing York York City
Passagens conhecidas
Página 670 - By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set today a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die,...
Página 670 - The foe long since in silence slept; Alike the conqueror silent sleeps; And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set to-day a votive stone; That memory may their deed redeem, When, like our sires, our sons are gone. Spirit, that made those heroes dare To die, and leave their children free, Bid Time and Nature gently spare The shaft we raise to them and thee.
Página 374 - Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man.
Página 513 - ON TIME. FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race : Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross ; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain...
Página 453 - It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook, In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
Página 375 - Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thine heart be hasty to utter any thing before God: for God is in heaven, and thou upon earth: therefore let thy words be few. 3 For a dream cometh through the multitude of business; and a fool's voice is known by multitude of words.
Página 447 - For we are all, like swimmers in the sea, Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate, Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall. And whether it will heave us up to land, Or whether it will roll us out to sea, Back out to sea, to the deep waves of death, t We know not, and no search will make us know ; Only the event will teach us in its hour.
Página 121 - The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Página 36 - The constitution provides that "this constitution may be amended by a two-thirds vote of the members present at any regular meeting...
Página 452 - And he saw that Youth, Of age and looks to be his own dear son, Piteous and lovely, lying on the sand, Like some rich hyacinth which by the scythe Of an unskilful gardener has been cut, Mowing the garden grass-plots near its bed, And lies, a fragrant tower of purple bloom, On the mown, dying grass — so Sohrab lay, Lovely in death, upon the common sand.