Training school reader. [Ed.] by W.J. UnwinWilliam Jordan Unwin 1862 |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 100
1 psl.
... little boy whose name was Har - ry , and he stood by a win - dow , and tried to catch the flies which crawled up the ... lit - tle boy , " said his moth - er , " and so you never thought that a fly could feel pain as well as your - self ...
... little boy whose name was Har - ry , and he stood by a win - dow , and tried to catch the flies which crawled up the ... lit - tle boy , " said his moth - er , " and so you never thought that a fly could feel pain as well as your - self ...
2 psl.
... lit - tle Har - ry if he were cru - el : and , if you were to for - get what I now tell you , I should have to pun ... lit - tle boy got any thing ? No ; nothing but a soft thin skin ; a pin would scratch it and make it bleed ; poor lit ...
... lit - tle Har - ry if he were cru - el : and , if you were to for - get what I now tell you , I should have to pun ... lit - tle boy got any thing ? No ; nothing but a soft thin skin ; a pin would scratch it and make it bleed ; poor lit ...
4 psl.
... little girl one day struck her school - fel - low . The teach - er found this out , and asked the child who was struck ... tle all dis- putes , and pre - vent all fights , a - mong chil - dren and a - mong men . We shall sel - dom be ...
... little girl one day struck her school - fel - low . The teach - er found this out , and asked the child who was struck ... tle all dis- putes , and pre - vent all fights , a - mong chil - dren and a - mong men . We shall sel - dom be ...
5 psl.
... lit - tle while . " " Why did you thump him ? " " Be - cause he pinched me , and that made me an - gry . " " Then you thumped him mere - ly to please your an - ger ? " 66 Yes , Sir . " " Af - ter you thumped him , and af - ter your an ...
... lit - tle while . " " Why did you thump him ? " " Be - cause he pinched me , and that made me an - gry . " " Then you thumped him mere - ly to please your an - ger ? " 66 Yes , Sir . " " Af - ter you thumped him , and af - ter your an ...
6 psl.
... lit - tle er - mine runs a - bout in the fro - zen des - erts of Si - be - ri - a ; she is white like the snow that is marked by her lit - tle feet . The hum - ming - bird of Ja - mai - ca could not live in our woods ; a fros - ty night ...
... lit - tle er - mine runs a - bout in the fro - zen des - erts of Si - be - ri - a ; she is white like the snow that is marked by her lit - tle feet . The hum - ming - bird of Ja - mai - ca could not live in our woods ; a fros - ty night ...
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Kiti leidimai - Peržiūrėti viską
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
a-bout a-bove a-fraid a-gain a-gainst a-lone a-mong a-way an-i-mals an-oth-er bas-ket BATTLE OF BLENHEIM be-fore be-lieve beau-ti-ful birds bod-y But-ter-fly called can-not car-ry carrion crow Cat-er-pil-lar Chaffinch child colour con-tin-ued crea-tures cuckoo deep dif-fer-ent droop-ing e-ven ea-gle earth eggs el-e-phant elephant ev-er-y eve-ning fath-er feet flax flowers fol-low GEORGE UNWIN giraffe green head hear heart heav-en him-self hole HOMERTON COLLEGE how-ev-er i-dea in-to insects king land Lark LESSON lit-tle live look Ma-ry man-y morn-ing moth-er Mother mountains nest never night o-pen o-ver ocean on-ly parents peo-ple poor pret-ty re-main re-mem-ber re-turn river Rob-in-et Robert rock round sev-er-al side snow sometimes soon soul ta-ken tell thee thing thou thought to-geth-er trees Tutor un-der up-on valleys ver-y wings with-out won-der worms wrong young
Populiarios ištraukos
191 psl. - Ring out, ye crystal spheres ! Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time ; And let the base of Heaven's deep organ blow; And with your ninefold harmony Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
80 psl. - Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are 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.
193 psl. - In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste...
195 psl. - I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles.
192 psl. - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving.
2 psl. - They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won ; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun : But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. ' Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won And our good Prince Eugene ; ' ' Why 'twas a very wicked thing ! ' Said little Wilhelmine ; ' Nay . . nay . . my little girl,' quoth he,
181 psl. - Noiselessly as the daylight comes back when night is done, And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek grows into the great sun. Noiselessly as the spring-time her crown of verdure weaves, And all the trees on all the hills open their thousand leaves...
81 psl. - You run about, my little Maid, Your limbs they are alive ; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five." " Their graves are green, they may be seen...
189 psl. - And though the shady gloom Had given day her room, The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, And hid his head for shame, As his inferior flame The new-enlightened world no more should need; He saw a greater Sun appear Than his bright throne, or burning axletree, could bear.
196 psl. - How beautiful is the rain ! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, How beautiful is the rain ! How it clatters along the roofs, Like the tramp of hoofs ! How it gushes and struggles out From the throat of the overflowing spout ! Across the window-pane It pours and pours ; And swift and wide, With a muddy tide, Like a river down the gutter roars The rain, the welcome rain...