Infant school reader. [Ed.] by W.J. Unwin (Google eBook)

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William Jordan Unwin
1861
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Page 45 - TWINKLE, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are ! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Then the traveller in the dark, Thanks you for your tiny spark ! He could not see which way to go, If you did not twinkle so.
Page 43 - I love them that love me; and those that seek me early shall find me.
Page 63 - Little birds sing songs of praise All the summer long; But in colder, shorter days They forget their song: There's a place where angels sing Ceaseless praises to their King.
Page 45 - In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky. As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are. Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Page 103 - As she was fetching away the last piece, they levelled their muskets at the cubs, and shot them both dead ; and in her retreat they wounded the dam, but not mortally. It would have drawn tears of pity from any but unfeeling minds, to have marked the affectionate concern expressed by this poor beast, in the dying moments of her expiring young.
Page 68 - Let my sins be all forgiven ! Bless the friends I love so well ! Take me when I die to heaven, Happy there with Thee to dwell.
Page 42 - Commandments, to love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy strength, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself.
Page 59 - Then a soft wing was spread, And o'er the billows dread A meek dove flew; But on that shoreless tide, No living thing she spied To cheer her view. So to the ark she fled, With weary, drooping head, To seek for rest : Christ is thy ark, my love, Thou art the tender dove ; Fly to his breast.
Page 87 - All that you do, Do with your might; Things done by halves Are never done right.
Page 89 - Cow. THANK you, pretty cow, that made Pleasant milk to soak my bread, Every day, and every night, Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white. Do not chew the hemlock rank, Growing on the weedy bank ; But the yellow cowslips eat, They will make it very sweet. Where the purple violet grows, Where the bubbling water flows, Where the grass is fresh and fine, Pretty cow, go there and dine.

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