The Royal readers. (Roy. sch. ser.). Ser.3. No.1,2 [2 eds.], 4 (Google eBook)

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1881
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Page 91 - Our outward life requires them not ; Then wherefore had they birth ? — To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth. To comfort man, — to whisper hope Whene'er his faith is dim ; For who so careth for the flowers Will much more care for him ! THE WOODLAND SANCTUARY.
Page 123 - THE SEA. The Sea ! the Sea ! the open Sea ! The blue, the fresh, the ever free ! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round ; It plays with the clouds ; it mocks the skies ; Or like a cradled creature lies.
Page 44 - Of the good time coming. Cannon balls may aid the truth, But thought's a weapon stronger; We 'll win our battle by its aid ; — Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming : The pen shall supersede the sword, And Right, not Might, shall be the lord, In the good time coming.
Page 174 - The old man laid his hand on her head, With a tear on his wrinkled face; He thought how often her mother, dead, Had sat in the self-same place. As the tear stole down from his half-shut eye — „Don't smoke," said the child; „how it makes you cry!
Page 45 - The glories of our birth and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hands on kings ; Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 45 - There's a good time coming, boys, A good time coming : War in all men's eyes shall be A monster of iniquity, In the good time coming.
Page 124 - ... was, and is to me ; For I was born on the open Sea ! The waves were white, and red the morn, In the noisy hour when I was born ; And the whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled, And the dolphins bared their backs of gold ; And never was heard such an outcry wild As welcomed to life the...
Page 124 - Like a bird that seeketh its mother's nest; And a mother she was, and is, to me; For I was born on the open sea! The waves were white, and red the morn, In the noisy hour when I was born...
Page 52 - Content thee, boy ! in my bower to dwell — Here are sweet sounds which thou lovest well ; Flutes on the air in the stilly noon, Harps which the wandering breezes tune, And the silvery wood-note of many a bird Whose voice was ne'er in thy mountains heard.
Page 45 - sa good time coming, boys, A good time coming : The people shall be temperate, And shall love instead of hate, In the good time coming. They shall use, and not abuse, And make all virtue stronger. The reformation has begun ; — Wait a little longer. There's a good time coming...

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