The Little Speaker, and Juvenile Reader: Being a Collection of Pieces in Prose, Poetry, and Dialogue, Designed for Exercises in Speaking, and for Occasional Reading, in Primary Schools

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A.S. Barnes & Company, 1856 - Children's literature - 162 pages
 

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Page 53 - And shouted but once more aloud, "My father! must I stay?" While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way. They...
Page 40 - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Page 52 - once again he cried, " If I may yet be gone! " And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Page 56 - Springing in valleys green and low, And on the mountains high, And in the silent wilderness Where no man passes by ? Our outward life requires them not ; Then wherefore had they birth ? — To minister delight to man, To beautify the earth. To comfort man, — to whisper hope Whene'er his faith is dim ; For who so careth for the flowers Will much more care for him ! THE WOODLAND SANCTUARY.
Page 39 - The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky. And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great original proclaim. The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand.
Page 31 - I'm your servant and friend, But we ants never borrow, we ants never lend; But tell me, dear sir, did you lay nothing by When the weather was warm?" Said the cricket, "Not I. My heart was so light That I sang day and night, For all nature looked gay." "You sang, sir, you say? Go then," said the ant, "and dance winter away.
Page 55 - GOD might have made the earth bring forth Enough for great and small, The oak-tree, and the cedar-tree, Without a flower at all. He might have made enough, enough - For every want of ours, For luxury, medicine, and toil, And yet have made no flowers.
Page 40 - What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.
Page 61 - THE VIOLET. DOWN in a green and shady bed A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Page 27 - You'd scarce expect one of my age, To speak in' public on the stage ; And if I chance to fall below Demosthenes or Cicero, Don't view me with a critic's eye, But pass my imperfections by. Large streams from little fountains flow ; Tall oaks from little acorns grow...

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