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Young Folks' Book of Poetry: Containing a Collection of the Best Short and ...
Loomis J. Campbell
No preview available - 2015
Young Folks Book of Poetry, Containing a Collection of the Best Short and ...
Loomis J. Campbell
No preview available - 2018
Alfred Tennyson Alice Cary baby beautiful Bell birdie bless blossoms blow Bob-o'-link bough brave bright bright eyes brown thrush busy bee chee chick-a-de-dee child clouds cold daisies dance dark dear doth earth eyes Father Felicia Hemans flowers fly away home gentle glad good-night grass green grow happy hear heard heart heaven Hiawatha hills Isaac Watts Jane Taylor Lady Moon lady-bird laugh light little bird little chicks Little Lamb little star Little white Lily look Mary Howitt meadows morning mother mountain nest never night o'er peep pipe play pleasant poor thing pray pretty rain red deer Richard Monckton Milnes rill river Robin roll round sang shine sing skies sleep snow soft song sorrow Spink spring summer sunshine sweet swing tell thee There's thou tick-tock tree twinkle violets warm waves William Allingham wings winter wood
Page 94 - O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Page 43 - My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem; And there upon the ground I sit, And sing a song to them. " And often after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer And eat my supper there. " The first that died was Sister Jane; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain; And then she went away.
Page 93 - The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied sun from day to day Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an almighty hand.
Page 13 - Speak, father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!" And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Page 37 - And then an open field they crossed : The marks were still the same ; They tracked them on, nor ever lost; And to the bridge they came. They followed from the snowy bank Those footmarks, one by one, Into the middle of the plank ; And further there were none ! —Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living child ; That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome wild.
Page 103 - There, with a light and easy motion, The fan-coral sweeps through the clear, deep sea, And the yellow and scarlet tufts of ocean Are bending like corn on the upland lea; And life, in rare and beautiful forms. Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, And is safe, when the wrathful spirit of storms Has made the top of the waves his own.
Page 100 - In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part ; For the Gods see everywhere. Let us do our work as well, Both the unseen and the seen ; Make the house, where Gods may dwell, Beautiful, entire, and clean.
Page 35 - Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray: And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day . The solitary child. No mate, no comrade Lucy knew; She dwelt on a wide moor, — The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door!
Page 80 - Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.