Select poetry for children: with notes, arranged by J. Payne, Issue 690Joseph Payne 1874 |
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Results 1-5 of 21
Page 13
... cold and forlorn , And the Gnat slowly winded his shrill little horn ; And the Moth , being grieved at the loss of a sister , Bent over her body , and silently kissed her . The corpse was embalmed at the set of the sun , And enclosed in ...
... cold and forlorn , And the Gnat slowly winded his shrill little horn ; And the Moth , being grieved at the loss of a sister , Bent over her body , and silently kissed her . The corpse was embalmed at the set of the sun , And enclosed in ...
Page 32
... cold , And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old , How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray , And he licked me for kindness - my poor dog , Tray . Though my wallet was scant 1 I remembered his case , Nor refused my last crust to ...
... cold , And Pat and his dog were grown weary and old , How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray , And he licked me for kindness - my poor dog , Tray . Though my wallet was scant 1 I remembered his case , Nor refused my last crust to ...
Page 34
... cold as ours . Do I say the world is cold ? No ! she loves me , little May ; From my heart its cloud of care With her smiles she draws away ; Strokes my face with dimpled hands ; With her warm hair , soft and fair , Crowds my face ...
... cold as ours . Do I say the world is cold ? No ! she loves me , little May ; From my heart its cloud of care With her smiles she draws away ; Strokes my face with dimpled hands ; With her warm hair , soft and fair , Crowds my face ...
Page 35
... cold- See the angel , sword in hand . I must strive with weed and thorn , I must suffer , watch , and wait , I must lay this body down , Ere I can repass the gate . Gracious spirits that love man Whisper through her rosy sleep , And she ...
... cold- See the angel , sword in hand . I must strive with weed and thorn , I must suffer , watch , and wait , I must lay this body down , Ere I can repass the gate . Gracious spirits that love man Whisper through her rosy sleep , And she ...
Page 55
... Cold blows the blast across the moor ; The sleet drives hissing in the wind ; Yon toilsome mountain lies before ; A dreary , treeless waste behind . 1 Tyrannous triple band — a threefold band of tyrants - a band of three tyrants . 66 My ...
... Cold blows the blast across the moor ; The sleet drives hissing in the wind ; Yon toilsome mountain lies before ; A dreary , treeless waste behind . 1 Tyrannous triple band — a threefold band of tyrants - a band of three tyrants . 66 My ...
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Common terms and phrases
babe beautiful beneath bird bloom blue breast breath breeze bright Charlotte Smith cheer child Cophetua Cowper cried dark dear delight doth earth fair fear flower fly away home foam fruit Gelert Gilpin glow-worm green hair hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills homeless birds Inchcape Rock Jane Taylor Jean Ingelow John Barleycorn John Gilpin John of England lamb land LATIN OF VINCENT leaves light live look loud Mary Howitt merry moon morning mother ne'er nest never night o'er passed play poor praise Puss rest roam rocks rose round sail shade shine sight sing sleep smiled snow song soon sound steed stood summer sweet tell thee thine things thou thought tree Twas VINCENT BOURNE voice wandered watch waves wild wind wing woods young
Popular passages
Page 79 - Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell. She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea. "Two of us in the church-yard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the church-yard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother." "You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea, Yet ye are seven ! I pray you tell, Sweet Maid, how this may be.
Page 317 - And nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying : "Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee." "Come, wander with me," she said, "Into regions yet untrod; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long, Or his heart began to fail, She would sing a more wonderful song, Or tell a more marvelous tale.
Page 29 - They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won ; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun ; But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won And our good Prince Eugene." "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine. "Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he, "It was a famous victory.
Page 206 - 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, Well done!
Page 296 - 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.
Page 249 - 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 child-like form.
Page 319 - Colder and louder blew the wind, A gale from the Northeast, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, Then leaped her cable's length.
Page 57 - I'll tell thee: He is called by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb. He is meek, and He is mild; He became a little child. I a child, and thou a lamb, We are called by His name. Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Page 110 - He plied his work ; — and Lucy took The lantern in her hand. Not blither is the mountain roe: With many" a wanton stroke Her feet disperse the powdery snow, That rises up like smoke. The storm came on before its time: She wandered up and down ; And many a hill did Lucy climb: But never reached the town. The wretched parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlook'd the moor; And thence...
Page 207 - The bottles twain behind his back were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke, as they had basted been. But still he seemed to carry weight, with leathern girdle braced ; For all might see the bottle-necks still dangling at his waist.