Child Classics: The Third Reader

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Bobbs-Merrill, 1918 - Readers - 258 pages

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Page 253 - My fairest child, I have no song to give you ; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and gray : Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every day. Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long : And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song.
Page 114 - Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom's song; Let mortal tongues awake ; Let all that breathe partake ; Let rocks their silence break, — The sound prolong. Our fathers...
Page 132 - THE mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel ; And the former called the latter ' Little Prig '. Bun replied, ' You are doubtless very big ; But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together, To make up a year And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace 10 To occupy my place.
Page 123 - Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there...
Page 204 - Think, every morning when the sun peeps through The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, How jubilant the happy birds renew Their old, melodious madrigals of love! And when you think of this, remember too 'Tis always morning somewhere, and above The awakening continents, from shore to shore, Somewhere the birds are singing evermore.
Page 78 - Over the river and through the wood. To grandfather's house we go; The horse knows the way To carry the sleigh Through the white and drifted snow. Over the river and through the wood,— . Oh, how the wind does blow! It stings the toes, And bites the nose, As over the ground we go. Over the river and through the wood, To have a first-rate play. Hear the bells ring, "Ting-a-ling-ding!
Page 22 - MAKE a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands : Serve the LORD with gladness, come before His presence with singing. Know ye that the LORD He is God : it is He that hath made us, and not we ourselves, we are His people, and the sheep of His pasture.
Page 202 - I watch him as he skims along, Uttering his sweet and mournful cry; He starts not at my fitful song, Or flash of fluttering drapery; He has no thought of any wrong; He scans me with a fearless eye. Stanch friends are we, well tried and strong, The little sandpiper and I. Comrade, where wilt thou be to-night When the loosed storm breaks furiously ? My driftwood fire will burn so bright! To what warm shelter canst thou fly ? I do not fear for thee, though wroth The tempest rushes through the sky; For...
Page 114 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love ; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.
Page 86 - PRIDE, and four times as much by our FOLLY; and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us; God helps them that help themselves, as Poor Richard says in his Almanack of 1733.

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