Cassell's primary series. The boy's and girl's third (fourth) reader (Google eBook)

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Page 133 - Let's dry our eyes: and thus far hear me, Cromwell; And, when I am forgotten, as I shall be, And sleep in dull cold marble, where no mention Of me more must be heard of, say, I taught thee...
Page 17 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ! While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 46 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Page 114 - Thou art where friend meets friend, Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest. Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north-wind's breath, And stars to set but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death!
Page 73 - 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
Page 145 - With that there came an arrow keen Out of an English bow, Which struck Earl Douglas to the heart A deep and deadly blow : Who never spoke more words than these " Fight on, my merry men all ; For why, my life is at an end, Lord Percy sees my fall.
Page 21 - When but an idle boy, I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing joy Here, too, my sisters played. My mother kissed me here; My father pressed my hand Forgive this foolish tear, But let that old oak stand.
Page 102 - Their graves are severed, far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea. The same fond mother bent at night O'er each fair sleeping brow, She had each folded flower in sight. Where are those dreamers now. One, 'midst the forests of the west, By a dark stream is laid The Indian knows his place of rest, Far in the cedar shade.
Page 126 - Wept o'er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, Shouldered his crutch and showed how fields were won. Pleased with his guests the good man learned to glow, And quite forgot their vices in their woe; Careless their merits or their faults to scan, His pity gave ere charity began.
Page 127 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all. And as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.

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