The School Board Readers: Standard V : Adapted to the Requirements of the New Code, 1871

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C. Griffin, 1872 - 256 pages
 

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Page 120 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Page 111 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose.
Page 149 - With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, Legs wide, arms locked behind, As if to balance the prone brow Oppressive with its mind. Just as perhaps he mused "My plans That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army-leader Lannes Waver at yonder wall...
Page 121 - But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. Afid there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail: And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Page 14 - That, Father! will I gladly do: 'Tis scarcely afternoon — The minster-clock has just struck two, And yonder is the moon!
Page 96 - We heard the sweet bells over the bay? In the caverns where we lay, Through the surf and through the swell, The far-off sound of a silver bell? Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, Where the winds are all asleep ; Where the spent lights quiver and gleam, Where the salt weed sways in the stream...
Page 96 - When did music come this way? Children dear, was it yesterday? Children dear, was it yesterday (Call yet once) that she went away ? Once she sate with you and me, On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, And the youngest sate on her knee.
Page 110 - The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. 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 15 - He plied his work ; — and Lucy took The lantern in her hand. Not blither is the mountain roe: With many" a wanton stroke Her feet disperse the powdery snow, That rises up like smoke. The storm came on before its time: She wandered up and down ; And many a hill did Lucy climb: But never reached the town. The wretched parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlook'd the moor; And thence...
Page 184 - See heaven its sparkling portals wide display, And break upon thee in a flood of day...

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