The Globe readers (ed. by A.F. Murison). Primer 1,2 (Google eBook)

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Alexander Falconer Murison
1882
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Page 362 - In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs and God has given my share I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down...
Page 34 - O'er moor and mountain green, O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! JAMES HOGG.
Page 123 - THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
Page 151 - THE FORSAKEN MERMAN COME, dear children, let us away ; Down and away below ! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow ; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away ! This way, this way ! Call her once before you go Call once yet ! In a voice that she will know : "Margaret! Margaret!
Page 202 - twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know. Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy : Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor blind boy.
Page 184 - Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee ' ; The western wind was wild and dank with foam, And all alone went she.
Page 408 - TO BLOSSOMS FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast ? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here awhile, To blush and gently smile, And go at last. What, were ye born to be An hour or half's delight, And so to bid good-night?
Page 329 - To be more prince, as may be. You are sad. Hub. Indeed, I have been merrier. Arth. Mercy on me ! Methinks, nobody should be sad but I : Yet, I remember, when I was in France, Young gentlemen would be as sad as night, Only for wantonness. By my Christendom, So I were out of prison, and kept sheep, I should be as merry as the day is long...
Page 360 - The sober herd that low'd to meet their young; The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool, The playful children just let loose from school...
Page 155 - Down to the depths of the sea. She sits at her wheel in the humming town, Singing most joyfully. Hark, what she sings; "O joy, O joy, For the humming street, and the child with its toy. For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well. For the wheel where I spun, 92 And the blessed light of the sun.

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