American Primary Teacher, Volumes 29-30 (Google eBook)

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New England Publishing Company, 1910 - Education
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Page 287 - You know the rest. In the books you have read, How the British Regulars fired and fled, — How the farmers gave them ball for ball, From behind each fence and farm-yard wall, Chasing the red-coats down the lane, Then crossing the fields to emerge again Under the trees at the turn of the road, And only pausing to fire and load.
Page 322 - Let me live in a house by the side of the road, Where the race of men go by — The men who are good and the men who are bad, As good and as bad as I.
Page 325 - That man, I think, has had a liberal education who has been so trained in youth that his body is the ready servant of his will, and does with ease and pleasure all the work that, as a mechanism, it is capable of; whose intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength, and in smooth working order; ready, like a steam engine, to be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the anchors of the mind...
Page 147 - I HAVE a little shadow that goes in and out with me, And what can be the use of him is more than I can see. He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head; And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
Page 167 - Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds Stand out the white lighthouses high. Almost as far as eye can reach I see the close-reefed vessels fly, As fast we flit along the beach, — One little sandpiper and I.
Page 322 - Or hurl the cynic's banLet me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
Page 287 - So through the night rode Paul Revere ; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo...
Page 128 - All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all.
Page 131 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Page 221 - The tumult and the shouting dies — The captains and the kings depart — Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget — lest we forget!

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