Pollard's Synthetic Third Reader

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Western Publishing House, 1890 - Readers - 320 pages
 

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Page 175 - And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.' 'How many are you, then,' said I, 'If they two are in heaven?
Page 261 - Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air: Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nobody knows but my mate and I Where our nest and our nestlings lie. Chee, chee, chee.
Page 197 - For every kind of beasts and of birds and of serpents and of things in the sea is tamed, and hath been tamed, of mankind; but the tongue can no man tame; it is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison.
Page 172 - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: Her eyes were fair, and very fair ; — Her beauty made me glad. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Page 202 - tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrim's pride, From every mountain side Let Freedom ring.
Page 211 - 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...
Page 221 - Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily flattering words, came slowly flitting by. With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head — poor foolish thing!
Page 295 - Again the child dreamed of the open star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces. Said his sister's angel to the leader: "Is my brother come?" And he said, "Not that one, but another.
Page 212 - 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.
Page 254 - I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.

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