Select Poetry for Children. A Book for School and Home Use1855 - 68 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 7
Page 2
... I don't know , but it sings a loud song . But green leaves , and blossoms , and sunny warm weather , And singing , and loving , all come back together ; But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love 2 SELECT POETRY.
... I don't know , but it sings a loud song . But green leaves , and blossoms , and sunny warm weather , And singing , and loving , all come back together ; But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love 2 SELECT POETRY.
Page 9
... me home my mother sought , She could not bear to see my joy ; For with my father's life ' twas bought , And made me a poor orphan boy . 66 The people's shouts were long and loud , My FOR CHILDREN . 9 THE ORPHAN BOY'S TALE. ...
... me home my mother sought , She could not bear to see my joy ; For with my father's life ' twas bought , And made me a poor orphan boy . 66 The people's shouts were long and loud , My FOR CHILDREN . 9 THE ORPHAN BOY'S TALE. ...
Page 10
Select poetry. 66 The people's shouts were long and loud , My mother shuddering , closed her ears ; Rejoice ! rejoice ! " still cried the crowd , My mother answered with her tears . " Why are you crying thus , " said I , " While others ...
Select poetry. 66 The people's shouts were long and loud , My mother shuddering , closed her ears ; Rejoice ! rejoice ! " still cried the crowd , My mother answered with her tears . " Why are you crying thus , " said I , " While others ...
Page 40
... loud , That still its sweet way wins : As springs an arch across the tide , Where waves conflicting foam— So comes this seraph to our side , This angel of our home . What may this wondrous spirit be , With power unheard before— This ...
... loud , That still its sweet way wins : As springs an arch across the tide , Where waves conflicting foam— So comes this seraph to our side , This angel of our home . What may this wondrous spirit be , With power unheard before— This ...
Page 50
... loud and clear ; Alas , alas ! you're weeping all , You're sobbing in my ear . Good night ! go say the prayer she taught , Beside your little bed ; The lips that used to bless you there , Are silent with the dead . A father's hand your ...
... loud and clear ; Alas , alas ! you're weeping all , You're sobbing in my ear . Good night ! go say the prayer she taught , Beside your little bed ; The lips that used to bless you there , Are silent with the dead . A father's hand your ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
beauty Billy bless blossom bottle bramble bread breath bright brother bucket which hung calender chaise cheek child churchyard cold cried dark dead dear doth Edmonton eyes fade fair father flew flowers ghost given warning glad heard heart heaven horse iron-bound bucket JOHN GILPIN kind to thy little children little eyes little fly little graves little maid live look loud mamma merry morning moss-covered bucket mother never o'er Old Jacob old oaken bucket orphan boy pity play POETRY FOR CHILDREN poor pray prayer rose say one thing SELECT POETRY side sighed sing sister SLOE smile song soon sorrow soul Southernhay Lane Speak gently speak no ill spider sweet sweetest tears tell thee thing and mean thou thought thrush Thy leaves thy mother-for Tick tread true Twas unto voice wept wild withering words wren young
Popular passages
Page 61 - He grasp'd the mane with both his hands And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin neck or nought, Away went hat and wig, He little dreamt when he set out Of running such a rig.
Page 27 - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
Page 65 - Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast ! For which he paid full dear; For, while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear; Whereat his horse did snort, as he Had heard a lion roar, And galloped off with all his might, As he had done before.
Page 66 - The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back amain! Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein; But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, The frighted steed he frighted more, And made him faster run. Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels, The post-boy's horse right glad to miss The lumbering of the wheels.
Page 62 - The bottles twain, behind his back, were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke as they had basted been. But still he...
Page 66 - Stop thief! stop thief! — a highwayman! Not one of them was mute; And all and each that passed that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space; The toll-men thinking as before That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, For he got first to town ; Nor stopped till where he had got up He did again get down. Now let us sing, long live the king...
Page 48 - Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two arc gone to sea; " Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Page 26 - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
Page 23 - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well. How sweet from the green, mossy brim to receive it, As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips ! Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
Page 23 - THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the...