Easy Rhymes and Simple Poems for Young ChildrenRoutledge, Warne, & Routledge, 1864 - 160 sider |
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Side 3
... Summer Time ... Mrs. J. L. Robert 22 .. .. Jane Taylor 22 Mrs. Hawtrey 23 Nursery Rhymes 25 Mrs. Hawtrey 26 Infant School Magazine 27 Jane Taylor 28 ..Jane Taylor 29 Anonymous 30 31 Langhorne 30 Mrs. Follen 32 W. H. H. 34 Anonymous 35 ...
... Summer Time ... Mrs. J. L. Robert 22 .. .. Jane Taylor 22 Mrs. Hawtrey 23 Nursery Rhymes 25 Mrs. Hawtrey 26 Infant School Magazine 27 Jane Taylor 28 ..Jane Taylor 29 Anonymous 30 31 Langhorne 30 Mrs. Follen 32 W. H. H. 34 Anonymous 35 ...
Side 7
... Is shaped so well That none their work can mend . Now in , now out , They move about , Yet all in order true ; Each seems to know Both where to go And what it has to do . ' Midst summer heat , The honey sweet It gathers The.
... Is shaped so well That none their work can mend . Now in , now out , They move about , Yet all in order true ; Each seems to know Both where to go And what it has to do . ' Midst summer heat , The honey sweet It gathers The.
Side 8
Easy rhymes. ' Midst summer heat , The honey sweet It gathers while it may , In tiny drops , And never stops To waste its time in play . I hear it come- I know its hum , It flies from flower to flower ; And to its store A little more It ...
Easy rhymes. ' Midst summer heat , The honey sweet It gathers while it may , In tiny drops , And never stops To waste its time in play . I hear it come- I know its hum , It flies from flower to flower ; And to its store A little more It ...
Side 11
... summer day In laying up her store ? The sparrow builds her clever nest Of wool , and hay , and moss : Who told her how to weave it best , And lay the twigs across ? Who taught the busy bee to fly Among the sweetest flowers , And lay his ...
... summer day In laying up her store ? The sparrow builds her clever nest Of wool , and hay , and moss : Who told her how to weave it best , And lay the twigs across ? Who taught the busy bee to fly Among the sweetest flowers , And lay his ...
Side 23
... JANE TAYLOR . HAY - MAKING . In the hay , in the hay , Toss we and tumble ; No one to say us nay , All through this summer's day . No one to grumble . In the hay , in the hay , Arthur we'll SIMPLE POEMS . 23 Mrs Hawtrey.
... JANE TAYLOR . HAY - MAKING . In the hay , in the hay , Toss we and tumble ; No one to say us nay , All through this summer's day . No one to grumble . In the hay , in the hay , Arthur we'll SIMPLE POEMS . 23 Mrs Hawtrey.
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES beautiful bless bread breast bright brings brother busy bee cheek cheer Cock Robin cold cottage daisies dark dew-drops door earth ELIZA COOK eyes fairy Father William flowers FOLLEN gentle girls glad green happy Sunday hath HAWTREY hear heart heaven hills holy hour HYMN JANE TAYLOR Jesus kind to thy kiss of love lamb Let me fly light little bird little child little maiden little stars look loves a little mamma Mary merrily merry moon morning naughty nest never night NURSERY RHYMES o'er old arm-chair old shoes pitter patter play poor praise pray prayer pretty QUEEN VICTORIA rest round shining sing skies sleep smiled song sorrow sparkling Spring tears tease my mother tell thine thing thrush tinkle to-day To-morrow Twas Twill violet voice walk weep wild wings young
Populære passager
Side 105 - The same whom in my school-boy days I listened to; that Cry Which made me look a thousand ways In bush, and tree, and sky. To seek thee did I often rove Through woods and on the green; And thou wert still a hope, a love; Still longed for, never seen. And I can listen to thee yet; Can lie upon the plain And listen, till I do beget That golden time again.
Side 17 - And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill I would be busy too: For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
Side 71 - Tis filled wherever thou dost tread, Nature's self's thy Ganymede. Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing, Happier than the happiest king! All the fields which thou dost see, All the plants belong to thee ; All that summer hours produce, Fertile made with early juice. Man for thee does sow and plough; Farmer he, and landlord thou!
Side 82 - WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER ? WHAT is that, Mother ? The lark, my child ! The morn has but just looked out, and smiled ; When he starts, from his humble, grassy nest, And is up and away, with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, To warble it out, in his Maker's ear : Ever my child, be thy morn's first lays, Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. What is that, Mother...
Side 123 - Then did the little maid reply: "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie Beneath the churchyard tree." "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," The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from mother's door, And they are side by side.
Side 83 - What does little birdie say In her nest at peep of day ? Let me fly, says little birdie, Mother, let me fly away. Birdie, rest a little longer, Till the little wings are stronger. So she rests a little longer, Then she flies away. What does little baby say, In her bed at peep of day ? Baby says, like little birdie, Let me rise and fly away.
Side 116 - Where'er he dwells, he dwells alone, Except himself has chattels none, Well satisfied to be his own Whole treasure. Thus, hermitlike, his life he leads, Nor partner of his banquet needs, And if he meets one, only feeds The faster. Who seeks him must be worse than blind, (He and his house are so combined) If, finding it, he fails to find Its master.
Side 105 - Thrice welcome, darling of the spring; Even yet thou art to me No bird, but an invisible thing; A voice, a mystery; The same whom in my schoolboy days I listened to; that cry Which made me look a thousand ways, In bush and tree and sky.
Side 13 - All this day Thy hand has led me, — And I thank thee for thy care ; Thou hast clothed me, warmed and fed me, Listen to my evening prayer. Let my sins be all forgiven ! Bless the friends I love so well ! Take me, when I die, to heaven, Happy there with thee to dwell ! VI.
Side 16 - HOW doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower...