Birds and Flowers: And Other Country Things

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Weeks, Jordan, 1839 - 208 oldal

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121. oldal - Little hardy flowers, Like to children poor, Playing in their sturdy health By their mother's door: Purple with the north wind, Yet alert and bold; Fearing not and caring not, Though they be a-cold. What to them is weather! What are stormy showers!
22. oldal - His gardeners young ant! old ; He never takes a spade in hand, Nor worketh in the mould. It is not with the poor man so, — Wealth, servants, he has none ; And all the work that's done for him Must by himself be done.
202. oldal - And go now," said the grandmother, " Since falling is the dew, Go down unto the lonesome glen, And milk the mother-ewe ! " All down into the lonesome glen, Through copses thick and wild, Through moist rank grass, by trickling streams, Went on the willing child. And when she came to the lonesome glen, She kept beside the burn, And neither plucked the strawberry-flower Nor broke the lady-fern.
91. oldal - OH the white sea-gull, the wild sea-gull, A joyful bird is he, As he lies like a cradled thing at rest In the arms of the sunny sea ! The little waves rock to and fro, And the white gull lies asleep, As the fisher's bark, with breeze and tide, Goes merrily over the deep. The ship, with her fair sails set, goes by, And her people stand to note How the sea-gull sits on the rocking waves As still as an anchored boat.
146. oldal - It never standeth still. It groweth, and it groweth fast; One day it is a seed And then a little grassy blade Scarce better than a weed. But then out comes the flax flower As blue as is the sky; And "'tis a dainty little thing,
182. oldal - As if the angel-voices were Singing to harp and dulcimer Before the mighty throne ! " It is not as of outward sound, Of breeze, or singing bird ; But wondrous melody refined ; A gift...
46. oldal - Till the kindly earth had nurtured it, Then out it freely spread : On this side and on that side It grappled with the ground, And in the ancient, rifted rock Its firmest footing found. The winds came, and the rain fell ; The gusty tempests blew ; All, all were friends to the oak-tree, And stronger yet it grew.
200. oldal - A curtsey low made Mabel, And then she stooped to fill Her pitcher at the sparkling spring, But no drop did she spill.
47. oldal - Then sing for the oak-tree, The monarch of the wood ; Sing for the oak-tree, That groweth green and good ; That groweth broad and branching Within the forest shade ; That groweth now, and yet shall grow When we are lowly laid ! Mary Howitt.
202. oldal - At her little gown of blue ; At her kerchief pinned about her head, And at her little shoe ! " " Oh, but she is a comely child...

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