The Beginner's Reader: Employing Natural Methods : Part III

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Maynard, Merrill, 1892 - 160 páginas

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Página 92 - THE north wind doth blow, and we shall have snow, And what will poor robin do then, poor thing ? He'll sit in the barn and keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.
Página 91 - 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. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day ? Baby says, like little birdie, Let me rise and fly away.
Página 91 - THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW he north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will poor Robin do then, Poor thing? He'll sit in a barn, And keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing.
Página 160 - I love my country's pine-clad hills, Her thousand bright and gushing rills, Her sunshine and her storms; Her rough and rugged rocks, that rear Their hoary heads high in the air In wild, fantastic forms.
Página 160 - LOVE my country's pine-clad hills, Her thousand bright and gushing rills, Her sunshine and her storms ; Her rough and rugged rocks that rear Their hoary heads high in the air In wild fantastic forms. I love her rivers, deep and wide, Those mighty streams that seaward glide To seek the ocean's breast ; Her smiling fields, her pleasant vales, Her shady dells, her flowery dales, The haunts of peaceful rest.
Página 152 - LITTLE drops of water, Little grains of sand, Make the mighty ocean And the pleasant land.
Página 58 - Young birds in their pretty nest, I must not in play Steal the birds away, To grieve their mother's breast. My mother, I know, Would sorrow so, Should I be stolen away; So I'll speak to the birds In my softest words, Nor hurt them in my play.
Página 159 - Believe it, my good friend, to love truth for truth's sake is the principal part of human perfection in this world, and the seed-plot of all other virtues ; and, if I mistake not, you have as much of it as ever I met with in any body.
Página 152 - Little deeds of kindness, Little words of love, Make our earth an Eden, Like the heaven above.
Página 59 - Who told her how to weave it best, And lay the twigs across? "Who taught the busy bee to fly Among the sweetest flowers, And lay his feast of honey by, To eat in winter hours?

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