Home Songs for Little People

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American Tract So'y, 1872 - Children's poetry - 286 pages
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Page 39 - THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW he north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will poor Robin do then, Poor thing? He'll sit in a barn, And keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing.
Page 230 - He that is down needs fear no fall, He that is low, no pride; He that is humble, ever shall Have God to be his guide.
Page 90 - A fair little girl sat under a tree Sewing as long as her eyes could see ; Then smoothed her work and folded it right, And said, "Dear work, good night, good night!
Page 91 - And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer. And while on her pillow she softly lay, She knew nothing more till again it was day; And all things said to the beautiful sun, " Good morning, good morning ! Our work is begun.
Page 128 - Freddy, and all the snow ; And the sheep will scamper into the fold When the north begins to blow." " Which is the wind that brings the heat?" " The south wind, Katy, and corn will grow And peaches redden for you to eat, When the south begins to blow.
Page 187 - I know not the way I am going, But well do I know my guide ; . With a child-like trust I give my hand To the mighty Friend by my side. The only thing that I say to Him, As He takes it, is, " Hold it fast, " Suffer me not to lose my way,
Page 55 - Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep ; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take ; And this I ask for Jesus
Page 125 - Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere ; By the dusty roadside, On the sunny hill-side, Close by the noisy brook, In every shady nook, I come creeping, creeping everywhere.
Page 126 - Silently creeping, creeping everywhere. Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere ; You cannot see me coming, Nor hear my low sweet humming ; For in the starry night, And the glad morning light, I come quietly, creeping everywhere. Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere ; More welcome than the flowers In Summer's pleasant hours ; The gentle cow is glad, And the merry bird not sad, To see me creeping, creeping everywhere.
Page 62 - RING-TING ! I wish I were a Primrose, A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the spring The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the Elm-tree for our king ! Nay — stay ! I wish I were an Elm-tree, A great, lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay ! The winds would set them dancing, The sun and moonshine glance in, The birds would house among the boughs, And sweetly sing.

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