Philips' series of reading books for public elementary schools, ed. by J.G. Cromwell, Libro 3

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John Gabriel Cromwell
1874
 

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Página 187 - The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.
Página 140 - The cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising; There are forty feeding like one!
Página 20 - What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day ? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger.
Página 177 - Lo, the lilies of the field, How their leaves instruction yield ! Hark to Nature's lesson, given By the blessed birds of heaven ! Every bush and tufted tree Warbles sweet philosophy : — " Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow : God provideth for the morrow...
Página 156 - UP to the throne of God is borne The voice of praise at early morn, And he accepts the punctual hymn Sung as the light of day grows dim. Nor will he turn his ear aside From holy offerings at noontide : Then, here reposing, let us raise A song of gratitude and praise.
Página 24 - seven times" over and over, Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old, I can write a letter ; My birthday lessons are done ; The lambs play always, they know no better ; They are only one times one.
Página 25 - They are only one times one. 0 moon! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low; You were bright! ah, bright! but your light is failing— You are nothing now but a bow. You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven, That God has hidden your face? I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.
Página 186 - Cuckoo ! shall I call thee bird, Or but a wandering Voice ? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear ; From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off and near. Though babbling only to the vale Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring ! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice, a mystery...
Página 84 - gainst a post ; Yet round the world the blade has been, To see whatever could be seen.
Página 141 - The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun ; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest ; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising ; There are forty feeding like one ! Like an army defeated The snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill...

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