Pictures of Memory: Compilation of Samuel Francis Woolard

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Goldsmith book and stationery Company, 1908 - American poetry - 60 pages

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Page 45 - A little elbow leans upon your knee, Your tired knee that has so much to bear; A child's dear eyes are looking lovingly From underneath a thatch of tangled hair...
Page 16 - The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn ? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
Page 37 - Little Boy Blue The little toy dog is covered with dust, But sturdy and staunch he stands ; And the little toy soldier is red with rust, And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now, don't you go till I come...
Page 35 - When all the world is young, lad, And all the trees are green ; And every goose a swan, lad, And every lass a queen ; Then hey for boot and horse, lad, And round the world away ; Young blood must have its course, lad. And every dog his day.
Page 16 - O'Hanlon 115 West Ninety-fifth Street VIRGINIA, Your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little.
Page 37 - And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now, don't you go till I come," he said, "And don't you make any noise!
Page 5 - Among the beautiful pictures That hang on Memory's wall, Is one of a dim old forest, That seemeth best of all. Not for its gnarled oaks olden, Dark with the mistletoe; Not for the violets golden That sprinkle the vale below; Not for the milk-white lilies That lean from the fragrant hedge...
Page 37 - And don't you make any noise!" So, toddling off to his trundle-bed, He dreamt of the pretty toys; And as he was dreaming, an angel song Awakened our Little Boy Blue — Oh ! the years are many, the years are long, But the little toy friends are true...

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