Poetry for the children, compiled from various sources by F.W.G. WhitfieldFrederick W G. Whitfield 1884 |
Common terms and phrases
adze armour of God beautiful land Bingen bless the boys blest boys of England bright blue sky child Children's Hour Christ dappled dawn dark dear brother Drogheda dungeon-gates at night earthquake's arm England's Royal Eternity eyes fairy bowers glad evangel glory GOD'S REMEDY golden hair grassy beds H. W. Longfellow HANKEY happy hear Heark'ning heart Heaven Heavenward point holy angel Holy Spirit Home Words JESUS Little by little Look Lord arisen Lowly twittering Matthew stop minds to raise Montgomery morning mother's love Mouse Tower never sad old Story Pharaoh pledged to fly point their little prayer quit the lawn Read Sea coast rills Robin Sang shine signal notes sinners sisters quit song Soon her sisters spread the rays spring holiday swart Egyptians swell their lays tell thee Thou Thy Spirit Thy Word turns were glad voice wildly sad wildly warbling throats wings are pledged wonderful Redemption
Popular passages
Page 28 - 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. I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet.
Page 10 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 28 - I hear in the chamber above me The patter of little feet, The sound of a door that is opened, And voices soft and sweet. From my study I see in the lamplight, Descending the broad hall stair, Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra, And Edith with golden hair. A whisper, and then a silence: Yet I know by their merry eyes They are plotting and planning together To take me by surprise.
Page 29 - 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.
Page 3 - What the leaves are to the forest, With light and air for food, Ere their sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood, — That to the world are children; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier climate Than reaches the trunks below. Come to me, O ye children ! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere.
Page 25 - With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave, And, to the church-yard come, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave. Nine summers had she scarcely seen, The pride of all the vale ; And then she sang; — she would have been A very nightingale. Six feet in earth my Emma lay; And yet I loved her more, For so it seemed, than till that day I e'er had loved before.
Page 24 - We travelled merrily, to pass A day among the hills. " Our work," said I, "was well begun ; Then, from thy breast what thought, Beneath so beautiful a sun...
Page 9 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high.
Page 9 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh ; The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Page 12 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each, burning deed and thought.