A poetical reading book [ed.] by W. M'Gavin

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William M'Gavin (editor of The union school song garland)
1862
 

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Page 72 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend — This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall: Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 7 - 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.
Page 51 - Had cheer'd the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel, as well he might, The keen demands of appetite ; When, looking eagerly around, He spied far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glowworm by his spark ; So stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, right eloquent — Did you admire my lamp...
Page 16 - Now I shall be out of sight; So through the valley and over the height In silence I'll take my way. I will not go on like that blustering train, The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain, Who make so much bustle and noise in vain, But I'll be as busy as they...
Page 11 - 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!
Page 8 - I'll tell thee. He is called by thy name, For he calls himself a Lamb : He is meek and he is mild, He became a little child. I a child and thou a lamb, We are called by his name. Little lamb, God bless thee, Little lamb, God bless thee.
Page 7 - I'll tell thee, Little Lamb, I'll tell thee, He is called by thy name, For he calls himself a Lamb.
Page 68 - Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew, Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue — Thinking only of her crested head — poor foolish thing! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast.
Page 55 - These pretty Babes with hand in hand Went wandering up and down; But never more they saw the Man Approaching from the Town. In both these stanzas the words, and the order of the words, in no respect differ from the most unimpassioned conversation. There are words in both, for example, ' the Strand,
Page 32 - Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...

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