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angels baby beautiful bird birdie bless bright bring called child cold comes creeping dark darling dear door drops earth eyes fair fall Father fear feel feet flowers friends gentle give glad green hand happy head hear heard heart heaven holy hope hour Jesus keep kiss kittens knitting land leaves light live look Lord mamma morning mother nest never night o'er once passing play poor pray prayer pretty rain rest rise round Saviour shining side sing sitting sleep smile soft song soon sorrow soul sparrow spring summer sure sweet teach tears tell thee There's things thou thought to-day took tree voice waiting wake watch weary winds wings winter young
Página 159 - The cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest; The cattle are grazing, Their heads never raising; There are forty feeding like one! Like an army defeated The Snow hath retreated, And now doth fare ill On the top of the bare hill...
Página 37 - HOUR. BETWEEN the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day's occupations, That is known as the Children's Hour.
Página 226 - WE were crowded in the cabin, Not a soul would dare to sleep, — It was midnight on the waters, And a storm was on the deep. 'Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered by the blast, And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, "Cut away the mast!
Página 153 - A nameless man amid a crowd that thronged the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, unstudied, from the heart; A whisper on the tumult thrown, — a transitory breath, — It raised a brother from the dust; it saved a soul from death. O germ! O fount! O word of love! O thought at random cast! Ye were but little at the first, but mighty at the last.
Página 38 - Such an old moustache as I am Is not a match for you all ! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart.
Página 84 - MERRILY swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee.
Página 74 - Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow : God provideth for the morrow. ' Say, with richer crimson glows The kingly mantle than the rose : Say, have kings more wholesome fare Than we poor citizens of air ? Barns nor hoarded grain have we, Yet we carol merrily. Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow, God provideth for the morrow.
Página 46 - A FAIR little girl sat under a tree Sewing as long as her eyes could see; Then smoothed her work and folded it right, And said, " Dear work, good night, good night...