The Cyr Readers: Arranged by Grades. Book 1-8, Libro 2Ginn, 1901 |
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Términos y frases comunes
66 I wish Anna apron baby beautiful Bessie birds birthday cake blacksmith blossoms Bowdoin College bright bright eyes buds calyx căn căr câre Carl cars catch Charles River Charlie Children's Hour clouds corn corolla Daisy dear little Edith Elsie ĕş fish flowers Freddie friends gander geese gills glad golden center grandma Green Häns hǎp happy Harold Harvard College Henry W Hiawatha hill Katrine leaves letter Lily little boy little duck little girl little squirrel lived lōne Longfellow wrote look Mabel mamma Mildred Miss Leslie Nelly nuts papa peep petals play playmates pretty brook pron quill pen rain fairies rill Rover sepals sing sled snow snowflake sunshine swim tell thought took tree violets watch wind window woods wrote a poem yellow
Pasajes populares
Página 105 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Página 65 - OFTEN I think of the beautiful town That is seated by the sea ; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear old town, And my youth comes back to me. And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still : " A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.
Página 104 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low.
Página 94 - Come to me, O ye children ! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. For what are all our contrivings, And the wisdom of our books, When compared with your caresses, And the gladness of your looks 1 Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said ; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead.
Página 92 - Ah ! what would the world be to us If the children were no more ? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before.
Página 105 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ) Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.
Página 103 - The smith, a mighty man is he, "With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
Página 104 - With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door : They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor. He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys ; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And makes his heart rejoice.
Página 47 - 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 44 - Tell if you were frighten' d When first you felt the cold; And, in the splendid summer, While you flush and grow, Are you ever out of heart Thinking of the snow ? Did it feel like dying When first your blossoms fell ? Did you know about the spring ? Did the daisies tell ? If you had no notion, Only fear and doubt, How I should have liked to see When you found it out ! Such a beautiful surprise ! What must you have felt, When your heart began to stir, As the snow began to melt ! Do you mind the darkness...