Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario
No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
abbreviations accented syllable animal answer Barbara Frietchie bees birds brown thrush butterfly called carefully cherry bud Children's Hour comma commit to memory complimentary close COMPOSITION correctly cotton Dear Dictation Exercise different sounds direct quotations eggs flowers following poem following questions following sentences following words given name grandpapa heading honeybee horse INFORMATION EXERCISE INFORMATION LESSON insect James James Russell Lowell John Quincy Adams learned leaves live look mark meaning memory and recite MEMORY EXERCISE memory the following mother nest Oral Exercise oral sentence paragraphs plants Pronounce the following PRONUNCIATION punctuation queen Read and commit Read the following REPRODUCTION Robin salutation seeds silent letters singing snow spiders stanza statements STORY FROM PICTURE Study and Conversation STUDY OF POEM sweet syllables synonyms taffrail teacher Tell tences There's Three Bells Topics for Study tree vowel vowel sound Write the story written
Página 124 - A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise. A sudden rush from the stairway, A sudden raid from the hall! By three doors left unguarded They enter my castle wall ! They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere.
Página 123 - CHILDREN'S HOUR Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations. That is known as the Children's Hour. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting...
Página 124 - I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart. And there will I keep you forever, Yes, forever and a day, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, And moulder in dust away...
Página 64 - Don't meddle! don't touch! little girl, little boy, Or the world will lose some of its joy! Now I'm glad! now I'm free! And I always shall be, If you never bring sorrow to me." 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! But long it won't be, Don't you know? Don't you see? Unless we are as good as can be!
Página 127 - 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. You friendly Earth, how far do you go, With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow, With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles, And people upon you for thousands of miles?
Página 151 - We get back our mete as we measure — We cannot do wrong and feel right, Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure, For justice avenges each slight.
Página 113 - Over the river and through the wood, To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Through the white and drifted snow.
Página 128 - With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow, With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles, And people upon you for thousands of miles ? Ah! you are so great, and I am so small, I...
Página 133 - They gather the elder-bloom white, They find where the dusky grapes purple In the soft-tinted October light. They know where the apples hang ripest, And are sweeter than Italy's wines; They know where the fruit hangs the thickest On the long, thorny blackberry vines.
Página 124 - They climb up into my turret O'er the arms and back of my chair; If I try to escape, they surround me; They seem to be everywhere. They almost devour me with kisses, Their arms about me entwine, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine! Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, Because you have scaled the wall, Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all!