First (-Fourth) reader

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Page 23 - THE VIOLET. DOWN in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew ; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Page 73 - You say the sun shines bright ; 1 feel him warm, but how can he Or make it day or night ? My day or night myself I make Whene'er I sleep or play ; And could I ever keep awake With me 'twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You...
Page 40 - Coming ere the spring-time, To tell of sunny hours, While the trees are leafless, While the fields are bare, Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there.
Page 73 - twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know. Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy : Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor blind boy.
Page 41 - Fearing not and caring not, Though they be a-cold ! What to them is weather ! What are stormy showers ! Buttercups and Daisies, Are these human flowers ! He who gave them hardship And a life of care, Gave them likewise hardy strength, And patient hearts, to bear. Welcome, yellow Buttercups, Welcome, Daisies white. Ye are in my spirit Visioned, a delight ! Coming ere the spring-time Of sunny hours to tell — Speaking to our hearts of HIM Who doeth all things well.
Page 23 - DOWN in a green and shady bed A modest violet grew ; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view. And yet it was a lovely flower, Its colors bright and fair ! It might have graced a rosy bower, Instead of hiding there.
Page 128 - August brings the sheaves of corn, Then the harvest home is borne. Warm September brings the fruit. Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Page 110 - With many a longing look, And — " Dear me," to himself he said, " I'm sure that's not a hook. " I can but give one little pluck : Let's see, and so I will." So on he went, and lo ! it stuck Quite through his little gill. And as he faint and fainter grew, With hollow voice he cried, " Dear mother, had I minded you, I need not now have died.
Page 78 - HEARTS, like doors, will ope with ease To very, very little keys, And don't forget that two of these Are "I thank you
Page 75 - No,' replied the spaniel with a snarl ; ' they are my own flesh and blood.

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