Examination Papers: Moderations

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Page 77 - The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 18 - IF a straight line touch a circle, and from the point of contact a straight line be drawn at right angles to the touching line, the centre of the circle shall be in that line.
Page 69 - Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly ; but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Page 67 - Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though small, He sees his little lot the lot of all ; Sees no contiguous palace rear its head, To shame the meanness of his humble shed...
Page 76 - Every one that flatters thee, Is no friend in misery. Words are easy like the wind ; Faithful friends are hard to find. Every man will be thy friend, Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend ; But if store of crowns be scant, No man will supply thy want. If that one be prodigal, Bountiful they will him call : And with such like flattering,
Page 37 - Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating us by rote: For him her Old- World moulds aside she threw, And choosing sweet clay from the breast Of the unexhausted West, With stuff untainted shaped a hero new, Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
Page 37 - Such was he, our Martyr-Chief, Whom late the Nation he had led, With ashes on her head, Wept with the passion of an angry grief: Forgive me, if from present things I turn To speak what in my heart will beat and burn, And hang my wreath on his world-honored urn.
Page 78 - Whose honesty is not So loose or easy, that a ruffling wind Can blow away, or glittering look it blind: Who rides his sure and even trot, While the world now rides by, now lags behind.
Page 24 - Had it pleased God to continue to me the hopes of succession, I should have been, according to my mediocrity, and the mediocrity of the age I live in, a sort of founder of a family: I should have left a son who, in all the points in which personal merit can be viewed, in science, in erudition, in genius, in taste, in...
Page 67 - No vernal blooms their torpid rocks array, But winter lingering chills the lap of May ; No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast, But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest.

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