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só journ

sea man

claim ant hú mour, cease less bow sprit chief tain hy phen - cho rus knav ish hoarse ness blue ness

eve ning neatness

fa mous

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refa vour


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la bour

fra grance la rynx

o dour



refore man
fore top
main mast
fre quent neat ness
griev ance light ning
guidance nuis ance
gno mon ni trous
te gold finch oak um



phà lanx
plain ness
plain tive

peev ish
pi rate

po rous

post script tre mour

poul tice

thiev ish

pay ment
pave ment

rai ment

ro guish
sa chem

squeam ish

sci ence


cli mate li cense

se quel

va pour

yeo man year ling

Behold the shepherd of the flock; he taketh care for the sheep; he leadeth them among clear brooks; he guideth them to fresh pastures.

If the young lambs are weary he carries them in his arms; if they wander, he bringeth them back:

But who is the shepherd's shepherd? who taketh care of him ? who guideth him in the path he should walk? and if he wander who will bring him back?

God is the sheperd's shepherd; he is the Thepherd over all; he taketh care for all; the whole earth is his fold, and we are his flock.

The mother loveth her little child; she bringeth it up on her knees.

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fri day gai ly high ly hoa ry near ly

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spright ly
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1 ů brók er, mà jor by word mea ger cham ber ma tron

may or

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coul ter

bea ver

clo ver

bol ster
dan ger

qua ver

ea ger
eas ter ran ger
east ward own er

sail or
stran ger

neu ter

paint er priest hood sci on

ei ther

gro cer

weary week ly She nourisheth its body with food; she feedeth its mind with knowledge.

When it is sick, she nurseth it with tender love; she watches over it when it is asleep.

But who is the parent of the mother? who nourishes her with good things?

Whose arms are about her, to keep her from harm? and if she be sick, who shall heal her?

God is the parent of the mother; he is the parent of all; for he created all.

All the men, and all the women in the world, are his children; he loves them all, he is good to all.

God is our shepherd, and we will follow him; he is our father; we will love and obey him.

2 2







diph thong nùrs ling
on yx

christ mas dis trict
crys tal drug gist
col umn ear nest

pamph let
phan tom
phthis ick

com merce fer vour

cur tain

ful gent

ab sence crès cent
ad junct
an guish
an nals
asth ma
an them
bank ruptcoup let
break fastcun ning
brick kiln dac tyle
bur nish em press
car riage for eign
challenge grand eur
chap lain head long
cyn ick hogs head mur rain
clam our in stinct mis chief
cer tain knowl edge nour ish
ches nut mon strous ner yous

jeal ous
learn ing
leav en
lep rous
mer chant
mar riage

friend ship peas ant

pleas ant pheas ant pres ence pit tance

pur chase ran cour splen dour sack cloth

sab bath

seg ment sen tence

The rose is sweet; but it is surrounded with thorns; the lily of the valley is fair, but it springeth up among brambles.

The spring is pleasant; but it is soon past: the summer is bright; but winter destroys the beauty thereof.

The rainbow is very glorious; but it soon vanishes away: life is good; but it is quickly swallowed up in death.

There is a land where the roses are without thorns; where the flowers are not mixed with brambles.

That country is heaven; it is the country of them that are good.

This earth is pleasant, for it is God's; and it is filled with many delightful things.

But that country is far better; there we





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wind lass furlough

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van quish in quest in stance

jour ney junct ure past ure struct ure trib ute trans port vent ure

wid ow

gangrenewin dow
tur key

shall not grieve any more, nor be sick any more, nor do wrong any more.

There the cold of winter will not wither us, nor the heat of summer scorch us.

There we shall meet, with all that are good; with all that have served the Lord on the earth.

There we shall see Jesus, who is gone before us to that happy place; and there we shall behold the glory of the high God.

We cannot see him here, but we will love him; we must now be in this world, but ́ we will often think of heaven;

That happy land is our home; we are to be here but a little while; but there we shall be forever; even for ages of eternal






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hús band

píct ure
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king dom
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lunch e on

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quag mire blos som
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meas ure rupt ure

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wea ther wel come


whith er

yon der

arise and

Awake; all ye that sleep

praise the Lord.

Ye who sail on the watery deep, praise him; for he hath preserved you in the dark night.

Praise him, ye travellers; for he enlighteneth your path.

Praise him ye village youths; and forget him not, ye children of the city.

You, whose table he hath spread with good things every morning, lift up your hearts in thankfulness to him who daily feedeth you with bread.

Ye soaring larks, ye warbling linnets sing; ye cooing doves awake, and all ye songsters of the grove, chaunt forth in sweetest melody the praises of your maker.

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