Major's New code ... readers, Book 4

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Page 101 - Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow.
Page 100 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore, When the stormy tempests blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy tempests blow.
Page 100 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy tempests blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 42 - The wind did blow, the cloak did fly like streamer long and gay, Till, loop and button failing both, at last it flew away. Then might all people well discern the bottles he had slung; A bottle swinging at each side, as hath been said or sung. The dogs did bark, the children screamed, up flew the windows all, And every soul cried out,
Page 24 - And I chiefly use my charm On creatures that do people harm, The mole and toad, and newt and viper; And people call me the Pied Piper.
Page 74 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Page 27 - Once more he stept into the street; And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane ; And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning Never gave the enraptured air), There was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling, Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering, And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering, Out came the children running.
Page 84 - THE stately homes of England, How beautiful they stand, Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land ! The deer across their greensward bound Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry homes of England — Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told; Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page...
Page 40 - Where they did all get in ; Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin. Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, Were never folk so glad, The stones did rattle underneath, As if Cheapside were mad.
Page 18 - As soon as the mid-day task was done, In secret I was there: And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, And still the corse was bare! "Then down I cast me on my face, And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one That earth refused to keep: Or land or sea, though he should be Ten thousand fathoms deep.

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