Primary Education, Volume 27

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Educational Publishing Company, 1919 - Education
 

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Page 243 - All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, all things wise and wonderful, the Lord God made them all.
Page 160 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 237 - Up the airy mountain Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting, For fear of little men; Wee folk, good folk, Trooping all together; Green jacket, red cap, And white owl's feather!
Page 160 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow: You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow. Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor.
Page 495 - Gay go up, and gay go down, To ring the bells of London town. Bull's eyes and targets, Say the bells of St. Marg'ret's. Brickbats and tiles, Say the bells of St. Giles'. Half-pence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's. Oranges and lemons, Say the bells of St. Clement's. Pancakes and fritters, Say the bells of St. Peter's. Two sticks and an apple, Say the bells at Whitechapel.
Page 243 - Shout ! Hang all your leafy banners out ! " It touched the wood-bird's folded wing, And said,
Page 168 - IN the ancient town of Bruges, In the quaint old Flemish city, As the evening shades descended, Low and loud and sweetly blended, Low at times and loud at times, And changing like a poet's rhymes, Rang the beautiful wild chimes From the Belfry in the market Of the ancient town of Bruges.
Page 38 - Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind. His horny hoofs are jetty black and round ; His chine is double ; starting with a bound He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils flow; He bears his rider headlong on the foe.
Page 40 - Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee !" The minstrel fell ! but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ! The harp he loved ne'er...
Page 253 - Hey, diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon. The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon!

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