Select Poetry for Children. A Book for School and Home Use1855 - 68 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 14
7 psl.
... tell her , too , of Jesus Christ , who died our souls to save . They laugh , and say I'm but a girl ; yet I shall older grow , And still be learning something , while I teach her what I know ; So they may laugh , my Ellen dear , for as ...
... tell her , too , of Jesus Christ , who died our souls to save . They laugh , and say I'm but a girl ; yet I shall older grow , And still be learning something , while I teach her what I know ; So they may laugh , my Ellen dear , for as ...
18 psl.
... tell me that the worm makes room For me , her brother , in the tomb , And thinks me slow . For as the rainbow of the dawn Foretells an eve of tears ; A sunbeam on the saddened lawn , I smile , and weep to be withdrawn In early years ...
... tell me that the worm makes room For me , her brother , in the tomb , And thinks me slow . For as the rainbow of the dawn Foretells an eve of tears ; A sunbeam on the saddened lawn , I smile , and weep to be withdrawn In early years ...
22 psl.
... tell . THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET . How dear to this heart are the scenes of my child- hood ! When fond recollection presents them to view ; The orchard , the meadow , the deep - tangled wild wood , And every lov'd spot which my infancy knew ...
... tell . THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET . How dear to this heart are the scenes of my child- hood ! When fond recollection presents them to view ; The orchard , the meadow , the deep - tangled wild wood , And every lov'd spot which my infancy knew ...
24 psl.
... me . Why the boys should drive away Little sweet maidens from their play , Or love to banter and fight so well , That's the thing I never could tell . But this I know , I love to play , 24 SELECT POETRY A BOY'S SONG. ...
... me . Why the boys should drive away Little sweet maidens from their play , Or love to banter and fight so well , That's the thing I never could tell . But this I know , I love to play , 24 SELECT POETRY A BOY'S SONG. ...
29 psl.
... tell me why we may not also go snacks ? Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind , A story so pat , you may think it is coined , On purpose to answer you out of my mint ; But I can assure you I saw it in print . A youngster at ...
... tell me why we may not also go snacks ? Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind , A story so pat , you may think it is coined , On purpose to answer you out of my mint ; But I can assure you I saw it in print . A youngster at ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
beauty Billy bless blossom bottle bramble bread breath bright brother bucket which hung calender chaise cheek child churchyard cold cried dark dead dear doth Edmonton eyes fade fair father flew flowers ghost given warning glad heard heart heaven horse iron-bound bucket JOHN GILPIN kind to thy little children little eyes little fly little graves little maid live look loud mamma merry morning moss-covered bucket mother never o'er Old Jacob old oaken bucket orphan boy pity play POETRY FOR CHILDREN poor pray prayer rose say one thing SELECT POETRY side sighed sing sister SLOE smile song soon sorrow soul Southernhay Lane Speak gently speak no ill spider sweet sweetest tears tell thee thing and mean thou thought thrush Thy leaves thy mother-for Tick tread true Twas unto voice wept wild withering words wren young
Populiarios ištraukos
61 psl. - He grasp'd the mane with both his hands And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin neck or nought, Away went hat and wig, He little dreamt when he set out Of running such a rig.
27 psl. - Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood In brighter light, and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood ? Alas ! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours. The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
65 psl. - Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast ! For which he paid full dear; For, while he spake, a braying ass Did sing most loud and clear; Whereat his horse did snort, as he Had heard a lion roar, And galloped off with all his might, As he had done before.
66 psl. - The youth did ride, and soon did meet John coming back amain! Whom in a trice he tried to stop, By catching at his rein; But not performing what he meant, And gladly would have done, The frighted steed he frighted more, And made him faster run. Away went Gilpin, and away Went post-boy at his heels, The post-boy's horse right glad to miss The lumbering of the wheels.
62 psl. - The bottles twain, behind his back, were shattered at a blow. Down ran the wine into the road, most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke as they had basted been. But still he...
66 psl. - Stop thief! stop thief! — a highwayman! Not one of them was mute; And all and each that passed that way Did join in the pursuit. And now the turnpike gates again Flew open in short space; The toll-men thinking as before That Gilpin rode a race. And so he did, and won it too, For he got first to town ; Nor stopped till where he had got up He did again get down. Now let us sing, long live the king...
48 psl. - Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two arc 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.
26 psl. - THE melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead ; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread ; The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay, And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day. Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers...
23 psl. - The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket arose from the well. How sweet from the green, mossy brim to receive it, As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips ! Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, Though filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips.
23 psl. - THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view! The orchard, the meadow, the...