Cornell Rural School Leaflet, Volúmenes6-7

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1912
 

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Página 966 - THERE WAS A CHILD WENT FORTH There was a child went forth every day, And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became, And that object became part of him for the day or a certain part of the day, Or for many years or stretching cycles of years. The early lilacs became part of this child, And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the...
Página 194 - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun.
Página 285 - Across the narrow beach we flit, One little sandpiper and I ; And fast I gather, bit by bit, The scattered driftwood bleached and dry. The wild waves reach their hands for it, The wild wind raves, the tide runs high, As up and down the beach we flit, — One little sandpiper and I. Above our heads the sullen clouds Scud black and swift across the sky ; Like silent ghosts in misty shrouds Stand out the white light-houses high. Almost as far as eye can reach I see the close-reefed vessels fly, As fast...
Página 831 - HE clasps the crag with hooked hands ; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Página 258 - This guest of summer, The temple-haunting martlet, does approve By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle : Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed The air is delicate.
Página 110 - tis the lullaby Time is singing — Hush, and heed not, for all things pass, Hush, ah, hush! and the Scythes are swinging Over the clover, over the grass ! — Andrew Lang.
Página 99 - A NOISELESS patient spider, I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated, Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold, Till the gossamer...
Página 822 - You call them thieves and pillagers; but know, They are the winged wardens of your farms. Who from the cornfields drive the insidious foe, And from your harvests keep a hundred harms; Even the blackest of them all, the crow, Renders good service as your man-at-arms, Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail, And crying havoc on the slug and snail.
Página 883 - Ladybird, Ladybird, fly away home, Your house is on fire, your children are burning.
Página 284 - THERE is a bird I know so well, It seems as if he must have sung Beside my crib when I was young; Before I knew the way to spell The name of even the smallest bird, His gentle-joyful song I heard. Now see if you can tell, my dear. What bird it is that, every year, Sings "Sweet — sweet — sweet — very merry cheer.

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