Third Reading-book in the Primary School

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Ticknor, 1843 - Readers - 162 pages
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Page 27 - 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 27 - Its colors bright and fair! It might have graced a rosy bower, Instead of hiding there. Yet there it was content to bloom, In modest tints arrayed; And there diffused its sweet perfume, Within the silent shade. Then let me to the valley go, This pretty flower to see, That I may also learn to grow In sweet humility.
Page 82 - That's the way for Billy and me. Where the blackbird sings the latest, Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, Where the nestlings chirp and flee, That's the way for Billy and me.
Page 138 - Benjamin, my son, what hast thou been doing ? " inquired his mother, observing marks of confusion in his face. At first Ben was unwilling to tell ; for he felt as if there might be something wrong in stealing the baby's face and putting it upon a sheet of paper. However, as his mother insisted, he finally put the sketch into her hand, and then hung his head, expecting to be well scolded. But when the good lady saw what was on the paper, in lines of red and black ink, she uttered a scream of surprise...
Page 138 - ... hundreds of years. But, though nobody had told him of such an art, he may be said to have invented it for himself. On a table near at hand there were pens and paper and ink of two colors, black and red. The boy seized a pen and sheet of paper, and, kneeling down beside the cradle, began to draw a likeness of the infant. While he was busied in this manner he heard his mother's step approaching and hastily tried to conceal the paper. "Benjamin, my son, what hast thou been doing?
Page 152 - Mid its sufferings and its snares ; Free from sorrow, free from strife, In the world of love and life, Where no sinful thing hath trod — • In the presence of your God, Spotless, blameless, glorified — Little children, ye abide ! Mary Howitt.
Page 39 - DON'T kill the birds — the little birds That sing about your door, Soon as the joyous Spring has come, And chilling storms are o'er. The little birds — how sweet they sing, Oh, let them joyous live, And do not seek to take their life, Which you can never give.
Page 161 - That mother sought a pledge of love, The holiest, for her son ; And from the gifts of God above, She chose a goodly one. She chose for her beloved boy, The source of...
Page 152 - In the baron's hall of pride, By the poor man's dull fireside ; 'Mid the mighty, 'mid the mean, Little children may be seen, Like the flowers that spring up fair, Bright and countless, everywhere!
Page 162 - Ah ! well do I remember those Whose names these records bear; Who round the hearthstone used to close, After the evening prayer, And speak of what these pages said In tones my heart would thrill ! Though they are with the silent dead, Here are they living still ! My father read this holy book To brothers, sisters, dear ; How calm was my poor mother's look, Who loved God's word to hear!

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