Thomas Babington Macaulay

And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers
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And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers
And the temples of his gods?

His imagination resembled the wings of an ostrich. It enabled
him to run, though not to soar.

His imagination resembled the wings of an ostrich. It enabled
him to run, though not to soar.

There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles
the Second. But the seamen were not read more

There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles
the Second. But the seamen were not gentlemen; and the gentlemen
were not seamen.

The sweeter sound of woman's praise.

The sweeter sound of woman's praise.

. . . A man of the world amongst men of letters, a man of letters
amongst men of read more

. . . A man of the world amongst men of letters, a man of letters
amongst men of the world.