The garland; or, Poetry for childhood and youth1850 |
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Page 8
... thee , too , a bit of bread , And share my milk with thee : I will not starve my pretty cat ; I like to see her plump and fat , As pussies ought to be . THE MOON . Dearest mother , pray tell to me What it is in the sky I see , That ...
... thee , too , a bit of bread , And share my milk with thee : I will not starve my pretty cat ; I like to see her plump and fat , As pussies ought to be . THE MOON . Dearest mother , pray tell to me What it is in the sky I see , That ...
Page 15
... thee , Well rewarded if I spy Pleasure in thy glancing eye . See thee , when thou'st ate thy fill , Plume thy breast , and wipe thy bill . Come , my feather'd friend , again , Well thou know'st the broken pane : Ask of me thy daily ...
... thee , Well rewarded if I spy Pleasure in thy glancing eye . See thee , when thou'st ate thy fill , Plume thy breast , and wipe thy bill . Come , my feather'd friend , again , Well thou know'st the broken pane : Ask of me thy daily ...
Page 16
... thee , Of gratitude and praise . The busy bee , ere this , hath gone O'er many a bud and bell , From flower to flower is humming on , To store its waxen cell . Oh , may I , like the bee , contrive Each moment to employ , And store my ...
... thee , Of gratitude and praise . The busy bee , ere this , hath gone O'er many a bud and bell , From flower to flower is humming on , To store its waxen cell . Oh , may I , like the bee , contrive Each moment to employ , And store my ...
Page 17
Garland. Thus let me , Lord , confess the debt I owe thee day by day ; Nor e'er at night or morn forget To thee , O God ! to pray . TO A ROBIN REDBREAST . Sweet robin , how I love to hear Thy tuneful song this wintry day ; To me it is a ...
Garland. Thus let me , Lord , confess the debt I owe thee day by day ; Nor e'er at night or morn forget To thee , O God ! to pray . TO A ROBIN REDBREAST . Sweet robin , how I love to hear Thy tuneful song this wintry day ; To me it is a ...
Page 30
... thee , And join my infant voice to raise A simple hymn of grateful praise . SONG AFTER LABOUR . Labours strong and merry children , Comrades of the rising sun , Let us sing some songs together , Now our toil is done . No desponding , no ...
... thee , And join my infant voice to raise A simple hymn of grateful praise . SONG AFTER LABOUR . Labours strong and merry children , Comrades of the rising sun , Let us sing some songs together , Now our toil is done . No desponding , no ...
Common terms and phrases
Arouse thee beautiful beneath birds bless blest breast breath bright brother busy bee cheer child cold coming creeping everywhere crimson-tipped CUCKOO dark dead dear doth earth earthly ELIZA COOK everlasting song fairy-queen father William flame flowers gathering band gay bowers Gelert glorious glory glowworm gone grave green hand happy hath hear heart heaven hope hour Ill housewifery John Tomkins labour life's light live Llewellyn's look Lord marmot mercy merry mighty wanderer moon morning mother ne'er nest never night numbered o'er peace PENNY MAGAZINE Piedmontese poor praise pray prayer repose rise roam round shining sigh sing sink to thy sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit sugh sweet tear tell tempest There's thine things thou art thou busy thou hast thought thro thy rest toil tree twinkle voice waves weary wild wind wings youth
Popular passages
Page 137 - Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, With charm of earliest birds ; pleasant the sun, When first on this delightful land he spreads His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, Glistening with dew ; fragrant the fertile earth After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on Of grateful evening mild...
Page 62 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Page 56 - once again he cried, ' If I may yet be gone ! ' And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.
Page 48 - Than reign in this horrible place. 1 am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone, Never hear the sweet music of speech, I start at the sound of my own. The beasts that roam over the plain, My form with indifference see, They are so unacquainted with man, Their tameness is shocking to me.
Page 103 - O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bird, Or but a wandering Voice? While I am lying on the grass Thy twofold shout I hear, From hill to hill it seems to pass, At once far off, and near. Though babbling only to the Vale, Of sunshine and of flowers, Thou bringest unto me a tale Of visionary hours. Thrice welcome, darling of the Spring! Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing, A voice...
Page 62 - And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing-floor.
Page 55 - The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but him had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck, Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form.
Page 100 - An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet ; Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a...
Page 64 - There is a spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest...
Page 122 - Give to the winds thy fears ; Hope, and be undismayed; God hears thy sighs and counts thy tears, God shall lift up thy head. Through waves and clouds and storms He gently clears thy way; Wait thou His time, so shall this night Soon end in joyous day.