What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
African elephant animal baby Bandy bear beetle began Bingen birds boat bosom brave breast BROWN BEAR cage Caldon-Low captain child colour cried crowns dark dead dear mother Editor elephant escape eyes farthing father fear feet fell flower forest friends gave gillyflower Grasmere green green woodpecker grew hand head hear heard heart hippopotamus hoopoes horse hunters inclosure Issachar jailer kind King Solomon laugh legs LESSON LITTLE PEDLAR live Mary Howitt master mind minuet mole mole-catcher morning neck nest never night oak-tree once peas poor prayer quinine round rowlocks saved seized shillings ship side snow Somebody's sometimes soon stood tail tears tell thing thought tiger Tiny took tray tree trunk turned watching white shark wind window wolves wood wounded young
Page 163 - Last night, the moon had a golden ring, And to-night no moon we see!" The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, And a scornful laugh laughed he.
Page 165 - But the father answered never a word, A frozen corpse was he. Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, With his face turned to the skies, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow On his fixed and glassy eyes. Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be ; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, On the Lake of Galilee.
Page 163 - Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, That ope in the month of May.
Page 92 - THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD THEY grew in beauty side by side, They filled one home with glee ; Their graves are severed, far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea.
Page 80 - I've spun a piece of hempen cloth, And I want to spin another — A little sheet for Mary's bed And an apron for her mother.
Page 157 - Matted and damp are the curls of gold, Kissing the snow of that fair young brow ; Pale are the lips of delicate mould — Somebody's darling is dying now. Back from his beautiful blue-veined brow Brush all the wandering waves of gold: Cross his hands on his bosom now, Somebody's darling is still and cold.
Page 164 - Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, And do not tremble so ; For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow.
Page 151 - I saw the blue Rhine sweep along— I heard, or seemed to hear, The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear; And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill...