Summary

Portrait of Ellen M. Cyr Ellen M. Cyr The Cyr Readers: Book 8

The most triumphant death is that of the martyr; the most awful, that of the martyred patriot; the most splendid, that of the hero in the hour of victory; and if the chariot and the horses of fire had been vouchsafed for Nelson’s translation he could scarcely have departed in a brighter blaze of glory. He has left us, not indeed his mantle of inspiration, but a name and an example which are at this hour inspiring hundreds of the youth of England,—a name which is our pride, and an example which will continue to be our shield and our strength.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Ellen M. Cyr Ellen M. Cyr The Cyr Readers: Book 8

The sudden view of the sea from the mossy, pine-covered height directly above it where we picnic; the wonderful stretch of lonely shore with the forest to the water’s edge; the colored sails in the blue distance; the freshness, the brightness, the vastness,—all is lost upon the picnickers, and made worse than indifferent to them, by the perpetual necessity they are under of fighting these horrid creatures. It is nice being the only person who ever goes there or shows it to anybody, but if more people went, perhaps the mosquitoes would be less lean, and hungry, and pleased to see us.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Ellen M. Cyr Ellen M. Cyr The Cyr Readers: Book 8

The stems of pines, hemlocks, and oaks almost gleam like iron on the excited eye. The incommunicable trees begin to persuade us to live with them, and quit our life of solemn trifles. Here no history, or church, or state is interpolated on the divine sky and the immortal year.
How easily we might walk onward into the opening landscape, absorbed by new pictures and by thoughts fast succeeding each other, until by degrees the recollection of home was crowded out of the mind, all{207} memory obliterated by the tyranny of the present, and we were led in triumph by nature.
Source: Gutenberg

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