Outline of English History B.C. 55-A.D. 1902

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Longmans, Green & Company, 1903 - Great Britain - 564 pages
 

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Page 109 - We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother ; be he ne'er so vile This day shall gentle his condition : And gentlemen in England now a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Page 109 - And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say ' To-morrow is Saint Crispian : ' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say ' These wounds I had on Crispin's day.
Page 109 - : Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say " These wounds I had on Crispin's day." Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember with advantages What feats he did that day...
Page 359 - Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back; Their shots along the deep slowly boom: Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail; Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
Page 108 - God's will ! I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost ; It...
Page 373 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow!
Page 108 - It yearns me not if men my garments wear ; Such outward things dwell not in my desires : But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive.
Page 185 - And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
Page 180 - I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm...
Page 372 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him.

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