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Página 147 - on the mountain top, Thy fields the boundless air ; And hoary peaks that proudly prop The skies, thy dwellings are. Thou art perched aloft on the beetling crag, And the waves are white below, And on, with a haste that can not lag, They rush in an endless flow. Again thou hast plumed thy
Página 121 - work, Play while you play, That is the way To be cheerful and gay. All that you do, Do with your might ; Things done by halves Are never done right. One thing each time, And that done well, Is a very good rule, As many can tell. Moments are useless Trifled away ; So work while you work, Play while you play.
Página 112 - Truth crushed to earth shall rise again, The eternal years of God are hers ; While error wounded, writhes in pain, And dies amid her worshipers.
Página 16 - Whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire, Cut in alabaster." But spirit, gayety even, is not vice; freedom is not folly ; your presence may be all cheerfulness,
Página 35 - for truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.
Página 147 - And now that bold and hardy few, Are a nation wide and strong; And danger and doubt I have led them through, And they worship me in song : And over their bright and glancing arms, On field and lake and sea, With an eye that fires, and a spell that
Página 112 - of at least half a score of the most thoughtless of men, and that, too, in hours of freedom from control. " And I say, if I, under circumstances like these, could encounter and overcome the task, can there be in the whole world a youth who can find excuse for non-performance
Página 163 - to the strain Which is played upon the shingles By the patter of the rain. Then my little seraph sister, With her wings and waving hair, And her bright-eyed cherub brotherA serene, angelic pair— Glide around my wakeful pillow, With their praise or mild reproof, As I listen to the murmur Of the soft rain on the roof.
Página 153 - THE TRUTHFUL BOY. ONCE there was a little boy, With curly hair and pleasant eye, A boy who always spoke the truth, And never, never told a lie. And when he trotted off to school, The children all about would cry, " There goes the curly-headed boy, The boy who never tells a lie.
Página 4 - for the routine of trade. No wonder, then, that they think every body fit to teach. The true end of education is to unfold and direct aright our whole nature. Its office is to call forth powers of thought, affection, will, and outward action ; power to gain and spread happiness.