Real subject, to slight your work.
Predicate, { Verb of incomplete predication, is.
{ Adj. complement of predicate, wrong.
| 1. | My father gave me a fine pony. | |
| 2. | At this moment the noise grew louder. | |
| 3. | There are eight girls in the class. | |
| 4. | Seek the company of the good. | |
| 5. | It is a sin to deceive anyone. | |
| 6. | How could he mark thee for the silent tomb! | |
| 7. | Crossing the field, I found a knife, rusty and broken. | |
| 8. | On an eminence above the sea paces a strong, rough Cornishman. | |
| 9. | On the eastern side of the Nile lies the temple of Karnak. | |
| 10. | For their lean country much disdain,
We English often show. | |
| 11. | Home they brought her warrior dead.—Tennyson. | |
| 12. | Bright-eyed beauty once was she.—Lucy Larcom. | |
| 13. | Do men gather figs from thorns?—Bible. | |
| 14. | The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea.—Gray. | |
| 15. | These are the gardens of the desert.—Bryant. | |
| 16. | Soon on the hill’s steep verge he stood.—Scott. | |
| 17. | The Indian knows his place of rest far in the cedar shade.—Hemans. | |
| 18. | Through all eternity, to Thee | |
| A joyful song I’ll raise.—Addison. | |
| 19. | The uncertain vacillating temper common to all Indians now began to declare itself.—Parkman. | |
| 20. | The fine English cavalry then advanced to support their archers, and to attack the Scottish line.—Scott. | |
| 21. | So saying, from the ruined shrine he stept.—Tennyson. | |
| 22. | Yet Fortune was bending over him, just ready to let fall a burden of gold.—Hawthorne. | |
| 23. | On the first day of his fasting, | |
| Through the leafy woods he wandered.—Longfellow. | |
| 24. | Raising his head, he looked the lustrous stranger in the face.—Hawthorne. | |
| 25. | At daybreak on the bleak sea-beach, | |
| A fisherman stood aghast, | |
| To see the form of a maiden fair | |
| Lashed close to a drifting mast.—Longfellow. | |
| 26. | Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace | |
| The day’s disasters in his morning face.—Goldsmith. | |
| 27. | All the livelong day, Oliver paced softly up and down the garden, raising his eyes every instant to the sick chamber, and shuddering to see the darkened window.—Dickens. | |
| 28. | By Nebo’s lonely mountain, | |
| On this side Jordan’s wave, | |
| In a vale in the land of Moab, | |
| There lies a lonely grave.—Mrs. Alexander. | |
| 29. | Wolfe had discovered a narrow path winding up the side of the steep precipice from the river.—Warburton. | |
| 30. | Along the cool sequestered vale of life | |
| They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.—Gray. | |
| 31. | The silent influence of Shakespeare’s poetry on millions of young hearts in England, in Germany, in all the world, shows the almost superhuman power of human genius.—Müller. | |
| 32. | Now see him mounted once again | |
| Upon his nimble steed, | |
| Full slowly pacing o’er the stones, | |
| With caution and good heed.—Cowper. | |
| 33. | By comparing the words of these inscriptions with many others, the proper method of interpreting this peculiar language was ascertained.—Ontario Reader. | |
| 34. | Failing in this, they set themselves, after their custom on such occasions, to building a rude fort of their own in the neighboring forest.—Parkman. | |
| 35. | I heard a brooklet gushing | |
| From its rocky fountain near, | |
| Down into the valley rushing, | |
| So fresh and wondrous clear.—Longfellow. | |
| 36. | Up from the meadows rich with corn, | |
| Clear in the cool September morn, | |
| The clustered spires of Frederick stand | |
| Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.—Whittier. | |
| 37. | No nightingale did ever chant | |
| So sweetly to reposing bands | |
| Of Travellers in some shady haunt | |
| Among Arabian sands.—Wordsworth. | |
| 38. | The French, blown and exhausted, inferior beside in weight both of man and horse, offered but a short resistance.—Lever. | |
| 39. | Looking, looking for the mark, | |
| Down the others came, | |
| Struggling through the snowdrifts stark, | |
| Calling out his name.—Lushington. | |
| 40. | A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard | |
| In spring-time from the Cuckoo bird, | |
| Breaking the silence of the seas | |
| Among the farthest Hebrides.—Wordsworth. | |