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apple asked Becky began Belfry Belfry of Bruges bells blood of heroes bob-cat Bruges burghers Cat-made-of-worsted Christmas Count of Flanders cried dance dark door earth eyes father flower friends Frome's Cat garden Ghent Gladiolus gone Grash Grash's Cat grew hands head hear heard heart John the Watchman King knew light listened Little Boy Little Girl little Jacob Little John live looked Lord Mary merry mind morning mother Mount Osceola Mozart neighbor Neonetta never night Odysseus Old Hoe once Orpheus Parson Dawes Peter Philip picture played Princess Rosella Queen roof Rosella Rose round sang seemed sing snow song soul soul-nature sound stars stood story street tell thee things thought told took towns trees turned violin violoncello voice walk watched William Blake window window-seat wish wonderful words Zouave
Page 15 - Softest clothing, woolly, bright ; Gave thee such a tender voice Making all the vales rejoice ; Little lamb, who made thee ? Dost thou know who made thee ? Little lamb, Til tell thee, Little lamb, I'll tell thee.
Page 13 - When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue Could scarcely cry
Page 15 - And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face...
Page 183 - God rest you, merry gentlemen, Let nothing you dismay, For Jesus Christ our Saviour Was born on Christmas Day." Dolly listened with a devout look, glancing at Marner in some confidence that this strain would help to allure him to church. "That's Christmas music," she said, when Aaron had ended, and had secured his piece of cake again.
Page 158 - Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a manger.
Page 39 - IN the ancient town of Bruges, In the quaint old Flemish city, As the evening shades descended, Low and loud and sweetly blended, Low at times and loud at times, And changing like a poet's rhymes, Rang the beautiful wild chimes From the Belfry in the market Of the ancient town of Bruges.
Page 20 - Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
Page 14 - My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white. White as an angel is the English child: But I am black as if bereav'd of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree And sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And pointing to the east began to say, Look on the rising sun: there God...