Geographical readers, Book 1

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Page 40 - Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. When all aloud the wind doth blow And coughing drowns the parson's saw And birds sit brooding in the snow And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When...
Page 49 - And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong : He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold ; And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald.
Page 40 - When all aloud the wind doth blow, And coughing drowns the parson's saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, And Marian's nose looks red and raw, When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl, Tu-whit; Tu-who, a merry note, While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Page 11 - TWINKLE, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are ! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky. When the blazing sun is gone, When he nothing shines upon, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Page 49 - And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold : And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen : Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken — The ice was all between.
Page 39 - O praise our God and King, Hymns of adoration sing ; For His mercies still endure, Ever faithful, ever sure.
Page 49 - Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken — The ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound!
Page 21 - Oh, yes ! I love the sunshine : Like kindness or like mirth Upon a human countenance, Is sunshine on the earth...
Page 25 - t were always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know. Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy ; Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor blind boy.
Page 54 - Through the windows, while the sun To the mountain-tops is run, Gilding all the vales below With his rising flames, which grow Greater by his climbing still. Up, ye lazy grooms, and fill Bag and bottle for the field ! Clasp your cloaks fast, lest they yield To the bitter north-east wind ; Call the maidens up. and find Who lays longest, that she may Go without a friend all day ; Then reward your dogs, and pray Pan to keep you from decay : So unfold, and then away!

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