Graded City Speller: Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Year Grades : Prepared from Lists Furnished by Principals and Teachers in the Schools of Eight Cities
William Estabrook Chancellor
Macmillan Company, 1908 - Spellers - 303 pages
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Graded City Speller: Seventh Year Grade; Compiled From Lists Furnished by ...
William Estabrook Chancellor
No preview available - 2015
accent adding a suffix beauty beneath breath cap'i cassimere cate cep'tion chieve chyle cism clipse con'fi consonant coun'ter cour'age crit'i croquet dent di'a diphthong dying earth ence fi'cial glory grad'u grade hear'say hearse heart heaven heifer Henry Wadsworth Longfellow honor in'ter late lent Longfellow lyre me'di ment mor'tal mullein nate ness never night nist Nouns ending nu'mer o'er ol'o par'a plural Primitive words ending Proverb qual'i quet quire ra'di retain REVIEW rize sail Sandalphon sat'is scepter Shakespeare si'cian si'tion sings singular song soul sound spelling su'per suffix suffix beginning syllable ta'tion tain tate te'ri ter'nal thee thine things thou tism tive trans triphthong truth tude u'ni val'u vate ver'te vowel wise WORD BUILDING WORD BUILDING Prefixes
Page 289 - This was the noblest Roman of them all : All the conspirators, save only he, Did that they did in envy of great Caesar; He only, in a general honest thought, And common good to all, made one of them. His life was gentle; and the elements So mix'd in him that Nature might stand up And say to all the world, This was a man!
Page 53 - THE DAY IS DONE. THE day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Page 296 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 302 - And what is so rare as a day in June ? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays : Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; Every clod feels a stir of might. An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers...
Page 203 - Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way?
Page 198 - Ay, tear her tattered ensign down! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar; — The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more. Her deck, once red with heroes...
Page 278 - I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
Page 114 - New occasions teach new duties ; Time makes ancient good uncouth ; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth ; Lo, before us gleam her camp-fires ! we ourselves must Pilgrims be, Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's blood-rusted key.
Page 210 - All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom.