The Illustrated London Reading Book. Various
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Название: The Illustrated London Reading Book
Автор: Various
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4057664644886
isbn:
THE BEETLE.
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See the beetle that crawls in your way, And runs to escape from your feet; His house is a hole in the clay, And the bright morning dew is his meat. But if you more closely behold This insect you think is so mean, You will find him all spangled with gold, And shining with crimson and green. Tho' the peacock's bright plumage we prize, As he spreads out his tail to the sun, The beetle we should not despise, Nor over him carelessly run. They both the same Maker declare— They both the same wisdom display, The same beauties in common they share— Both are equally happy and gay. And remember that while you would fear The beautiful peacock to kill, You would tread on the poor beetle here, And think you were doing no ill. But though 'tis so humble, be sure, As mangled and bleeding it lies, A pain as severe 'twill endure, As if 'twere a giant that dies. |
THE FOUNDING OF THE BELL.
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Hark! how the furnace pants and roars, Hark! how the molten metal pours, As, bursting from its iron doors, It glitters in the sun. Now through the ready mould it flows, Seething and hissing as it goes, And filling every crevice up, As the red vintage fills the cup— Hurra! the work is done! Unswathe him now. Take off each stay That binds him to his couch of clay, And let him struggle into day! Let chain and pulley run, With yielding crank and steady rope, Until he rise from rim to cope, In rounded beauty, ribb'd in strength, Without a flaw in all his length— Hurra! the work is done! The clapper on his giant side Shall ring no peal for blushing bride, For birth, or death, or new-year tide, Or festival begun! A nation's joy alone shall be The signal for his revelry; And for a nation's woes alone His melancholy tongue shall moan— Hurra! the work is done! Borne on the gale, deep-toned and clear, His long, loud summons shall we hear, When statesmen to their country dear Their mortal race have run; When mighty Monarchs yield their breath, And patriots sleep the sleep of death, Then shall he raise his voice of gloom, And peal a requiem o'er their tomb— Hurra! the work is done! Should foemen lift their haughty hand, And dare invade us where we stand, Fast by the altars of our land We'll gather every one; And he shall ring the loud alarm, To call the multitudes to arm, From distant field and forest brown, And teeming alleys of the town— Hurra! the work is done! And as the solemn boom they hear, Old men shall grasp the idle spear, Laid by to rust for many a year, And to the struggle run: Young men shall leave their toils or books, Or turn to swords their pruning-hooks; And maids have sweetest smiles for those Who battle with their country's foes— Hurra! the work is done! And when the cannon's iron throat Shall bear the news to dells remote, And trumpet blast resound the note— That victory is won; When down the wind the banner drops, And bonfires blaze on mountain tops, His sides shall glow with fierce delight, And ring glad peals from morn to night— Hurra! the work is done! But of such themes forbear to tell— May never War awake this bell To sound the tocsin or the knell— Hush'd be the alarum gun. Sheath'd be the sword! and may his voice But call the nations to rejoice That War his tatter'd flag has furl'd, And vanish'd from a wiser world— Hurra! the work is done! Still may he ring when struggles cease— Still may he ring for joy's increase, For progress in the arts of peace, And friendly trophies won; When rival nations join their hands, When plenty crowns the happy lands, When Knowledge gives new blessings birth, And Freedom reigns o'er all the earth— Hurra! the work is done! Mackay. |
NAPOLEON.
With his passions, and in spite of his errors, Napoleon was, taking him all in all, the greatest warrior of modern times. He carried into battle a stoical courage, a profoundly calculated tenacity, a mind fertile in sudden inspirations, which, by unlooked-for resources, disconcerted the plans of his enemy. Let us beware of attributing a long series of success to the organic power of the masses which he set in motion. The most experienced eye could scarcely discover in them any thing but elements of disorder. Still less, let it be said, that he was a successful captain because he was a mighty Monarch. Of all his campaigns, the most memorable are the campaign of the Adige, where the general of yesterday, commanding an army by no means numerous, and at first badly appointed, placed himself at once above Turenne, and on a level with Frederick; and the campaign in France in 1814, when, reduced to a handful of harrassed troops, he combated a force of ten times their number. The last flashes of Imperial lightning still dazzled the eyes of our enemies; and it was a fine sight to see the bounds of the old lion, tracked, hunted down, beset—presenting a lively picture of the days of his youth, when his powers developed themselves in the fields of carnage.
Napoleon possessed, in an eminent degree, the faculties requisite for the profession of arms; temperate and robust; watching and sleeping at pleasure; appearing unawares where he was least expected: he did not disregard details, to which important results are sometimes attached. The hand which had just traced rules for the government of many millions of men, would frequently rectify an incorrect statement of the situation of a regiment, or write down whence two hundred conscripts were to be obtained, and from what magazine their shoes were to be taken. A patient, and an easy interlocutor, he was a home questioner, and he could listen—a rare talent in the grandees of the earth. He carried with him into battle a cool and impassable courage. Never was mind so deeply meditative, more fertile in rapid and sudden illuminations. On becoming Emperor he ceased not to be the soldier. If his activity decreased with the progress of age, that was owing to the decrease of his physical powers. In games of mingled calculation and hazard the greater the advantages which a man seeks to obtain the greater risks he must run. It is precisely this that renders the deceitful science of conquerors so calamitous to nations.
Napoleon, though naturally adventurous, was not deficient in consistency or method; and he wasted neither his soldiers nor his treasures where the authority of his name sufficed. What he could obtain by negotiations or by artifice, he required not by force of arms. The sword, although drawn from the scabbard, was not stained with blood unless it was impossible to attain the end in view by a manoeuvre. Always ready to fight, he chose habitually the occasion and the ground: out of fifty battles which he fought, СКАЧАТЬ