The Third Reader

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Cowperthwait & Company, 1873 - 224 páginas
 

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Página 163 - So the merry brown thrush sings away in the tree, To you and to me, to you and to me; And he sings all the day, little girl, little boy, "Oh, the world's running over with joy!
Página 123 - 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 60 - You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot: You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!
Página 224 - A FAREWELL. My fairest child, I have no song to give you ; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray : Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long : And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song.
Página 191 - How many deeds of kindness A little child may do, Although it has so little strength, And little wisdom too? It wants a loving spirit Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do For others by its love.
Página 212 - The rain and the night together Came down, and the wind came after, Bending the props of the pine-tree roof, And snapping many a rafter. I crept along in the darkness, Stunned, and bruised, and blinded, Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs, And a sheltering rock behind it.
Página 60 - The wonderful air is over me, And the wonderful wind is shaking the tree, It walks on the water, and whirls the mills, And talks to itself on the tops of the hills.
Página 213 - There from the blowing and raining, Crouching, I sought to hide me : Something rustled, two green eyes shone, And a wolf lay down beside me.
Página 122 - 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 191 - SUPPOSE the little cowslip Should hang its golden cup, And say, "I'm such a tiny flower I'd better not grow up :" How many a weary traveller Would miss its fragrant smell!

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