A Third[-fourth] Class ReaderHickling, Swan and Brewer, 1859 |
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Página xv
... head , good - will , & c . But these rare exceptional words give no sort of countenance to the vulgar American custom , by which we have di'rect'ly , ex'act'ly , fo'ren'sic , gi'gan'tic , po ' lit'ical , tau'tology , & c . ELEMENTS OF ...
... head , good - will , & c . But these rare exceptional words give no sort of countenance to the vulgar American custom , by which we have di'rect'ly , ex'act'ly , fo'ren'sic , gi'gan'tic , po ' lit'ical , tau'tology , & c . ELEMENTS OF ...
Página xxxii
... head heard hair hat heart hall hod horse hut hail height hoy home house hue - heathen hydra harass human wholesome hothouse hartshorn - herein hereon harangue behind perhaps inhale exhale exhaust - harmony humanize heritage harassing ...
... head heard hair hat heart hall hod horse hut hail height hoy home house hue - heathen hydra harass human wholesome hothouse hartshorn - herein hereon harangue behind perhaps inhale exhale exhaust - harmony humanize heritage harassing ...
Página 6
... head on your pillow with joy ; No thorn to disturb shall be there . The moon through your curtains shall cheerfully peep , Her silver beam dance in your eyes , And mild evening breezes shall fan you to sleep , Till bright morning bids ...
... head on your pillow with joy ; No thorn to disturb shall be there . The moon through your curtains shall cheerfully peep , Her silver beam dance in your eyes , And mild evening breezes shall fan you to sleep , Till bright morning bids ...
Página 11
... head before the piercing wind of night , I will carry thee back to the bosom of thy mother , where thy sisters are yet sleeping . Frost and cold will pass away ; but life hides itself , and then returns again . " IX . THE MOSS ROSE ...
... head before the piercing wind of night , I will carry thee back to the bosom of thy mother , where thy sisters are yet sleeping . Frost and cold will pass away ; but life hides itself , and then returns again . " IX . THE MOSS ROSE ...
Página 22
... head at your hard prison bar , And hate the vile monster that took you so far , For nothing at all but his fun ! Then say , little boy , shall we climb the tall tree ? Ah , no ! but this lesson we'll learn , That ' twould just as cruel ...
... head at your hard prison bar , And hate the vile monster that took you so far , For nothing at all but his fun ! Then say , little boy , shall we climb the tall tree ? Ah , no ! but this lesson we'll learn , That ' twould just as cruel ...
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A Third Class Reader: Consisting of Extracts in Prose and Verse, for the Use ... George Stillman Hillard Visualização integral - 1857 |
Palavras e frases frequentes
a-we Accented animal articulation beautiful blessings boat bread breast bright brother butterfly's called carried child churn compound Croton Croton River Damrell dear Dolphin door e-nd e-ve earth eggs element elephant Emma England Fanny father feet flax flowers Franklin grass green ground hand hath head hear heard heaven horse humming bird Indians Italic type JANE TAYLOR kind Lapstone lesson little girl lived look Lord Melville mahogany mother mountain mouth nest never NEWFOUNDLAND DOGS night o'er once oo-ze Orkney orthoepy peasant play Pocahontas poor praise pretty reindeer sing sleep soon sound spider spring stood subtonic sweet syllable tell thee thing thou tigers Timboo told tonic took Towser tree trunk Unaccented vocality vocule voice vulture wagon wings wood word young
Passagens conhecidas
Página xxi - Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire, I do wander every where, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green. The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours, In those freckles live their savours.
Página 116 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Página 69 - That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad : Her eyes were fair, and very fair; —Her beauty made me glad. " Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be ?" " How many ? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Página 70 - And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." " How many are you, then," said I, " If they two are in heaven ?" Quick was the little Maid's reply,
Página 138 - Will you walk into my parlor ? " said the spider to the fly, "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy. The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many curious things to show when you are there." " Oh, no, no," said the little fly, " to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair, can ne'er come down again.
Página 70 - And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there.
Página 28 - The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink ; I heard a voice, it said, Drink, pretty Creature, drink ! And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied, A snow-white mountain Lamb with a Maiden at its side. No other sheep were near, the Lamb was all alone, And by a slender cord was tether'd to a stone...
Página 139 - Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by: With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, — Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head— poor foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast. He...
Página 138 - Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain; For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." "I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!
Página 115 - 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.