The round world: a reading book for geography for standard ii

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Marcus Ward & Company, 1883 - Readers - 122 pages

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Page 122 - You friendly Earth, how far do you go, With the wheat-fields that nod and the rivers that flow, With cities and gardens, and cliffs and isles, And people upon you for thousands of miles?
Page 84 - Solemn, yet sweet, the church-bell's chime Floats through their woods at morn; All other sounds, in that still time, Of breeze and leaf are born. The Cottage Homes of England!
Page 122 - You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot: You can love and think, and the Earth cannot!
Page 28 - See, the day begins to break, And the light shoots like a streak Of subtle fire; the wind blows cold, Whilst the morning doth unfold; Now the birds begin to rouse, And the squirrel from the boughs Leaps, to get him nuts and fruit; The early lark, that erst was mute, Carols to the rising day Many a note and many a lay...
Page 122 - Great, wide, beautiful, wonderful world, With the wonderful water round you curled, And the wonderful grass upon your breast, World, you are beautifully drest.
Page 83 - O'er all the pleasant land. The deer across their greensward bound, Through shade and sunny gleam, And the swan glides past them with the sound Of some rejoicing stream. The merry Homes of England ! Around their hearths by night, What gladsome looks of household love Meet in the ruddy light ! There woman's voice flows forth in song, Or childhood's tale is told, Or lips move tunefully along Some glorious page of old.
Page 94 - You say the sun shines bright; 1 feel him warm, but how can he, Or make it day or night? My day or night myself I make Whene'er I sleep or play; And could I ever keep awake With me 'twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You...
Page 94 - I feel him warm, but how can he Or make it day or night ? My day or night myself I make Whene'er I sleep or play ; And could I ever keep awake With me 'twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know. Then let not what...
Page 84 - The cottage homes of England ! By thousands on her plains, They are smiling o'er the silvery brooks, And round the hamlet fanes. Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves ; And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves.
Page 94 - twere always day. With heavy sighs I often hear You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear A loss I ne'er can know. Then let not what I cannot have My cheer of mind destroy, Whilst thus I sing, I am a king, Although a poor blind boy.

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