The Maine Journal of Education, Volume 3

Brown Thurston, 1869

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Página 255 - cut, Died twenty years ago. My lids have long been dry, Tom, But tears came in my eyes; I thought of her I loved so well — Those early broken ties; I visited the old church-yard, And took some flowers to strow Upon the graves of those we loved, Some twenty years ago. Some
Página 471 - to the French Chamber of -Deputies: '• What a well-assorted union of qualities is required to constitute a good schoolmaster. A good schoolmaster ought to be a man who knows much more than he is called upon to teach, that he may teach with intelligence and with taste; who
Página 300 - Oh! my heart grows weak as a woman's And the fountains of feeling will flow, When I think of the paths steep and stony, Where the feet of the dear ones must go; Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them, Of the tempest of Fate blowing wild; Oh! there's nothing on earth half so holy As the innocent heart of a
Página 426 - Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood.
Página 285 - fine arts, not imitation, but creation, is the aim. In landscapes, the painter should give the suggestion of a fairer creation than we know. The details, the prose of nature he should omit, and give us only the spirit and splendor.
Página 333 - After all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, frugality, and prudence, though excellent things; for they, may all be blasted without the blessing of Heaven. The
Página 295 - Let us not be weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap if we faint not.
Página 255 - twas played with knives, By throwing so, and so; The leader had a task to do — There, twenty years ago. The river's running just as still; The willows on its side Are larger than they were, Tom; The
Página 255 - few are left of our old class, Excepting you and me; And when our time shall come, Tom, And we are called to go, I hope they'll lay us where we played, Just twenty years ago.
Página 300 - And the little ones gather around me, To bid me good-night and be kissed; Oh! the little white arms that encircle My neck in a tender embrace, Oh! the smiles that are halos of heaven, Shedding sunshine of love on my face. And, when they are gone, I sit dreaming Of my childhood, too lovely to last; Of love that my heart will remember,

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