Lessons in English for Foreign Women: For Use in Settlements and Evening Schools

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American book Company, 1913 - English language - 159 pages
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Page 127 - WHO HAS SEEN THE WIND? Who has seen the wind ? Neither I nor you ; But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind ? Neither you nor I ; But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by.
Page 159 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song ! Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break,— The sound prolong ! Our fathers...
Page 158 - tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing ; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrims' pride, From every mountain side Let freedom ring!
Page 156 - The year's at the spring And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn: God's in his heaven — All's right with the world!
Page 154 - Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Page 120 - Rockabye Baby, on the tree top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, Down will come baby, cradle and all.
Page 154 - 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. 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 121 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dropping moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps.
Page 158 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love ; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.
Page 101 - There are bridges on the rivers, As pretty as you please ; But the bow that bridges heaven, And overtops the trees, And builds a road from earth to sky, Is prettier far than these.

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