Graded Literature Readers: Fourth Book

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Harry Pratt Judson, Ida Catherine Bender
Maynard, Merrill, 1900 - 262 pages

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Page 223 - That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, Whom mortals call the moon, Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor, By the midnight breezes strewn ; And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, Which only the angels hear, May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof, The stars peep behind her and peer...
Page 130 - Unwarmed by any sunset light The gray day darkened into night, A night made hoary with the swarm And whirl-dance of the blinding storm, As zigzag, wavering to and fro, Crossed and recrossed the winged snow: And ere the early bedtime came The white drift piled the window-frame, And through the glass the clothes-line posts Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.
Page 117 - What the hammer ? what the chain ? In what furnace was thy brain ? What the anvil ? what dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp ? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see ? Did he who made the lamb make thee...
Page 160 - My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee ; The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, Who, from the dark old tree Beside the door, sang clearly all day long, And I, secure in childish piety, Listened as if I heard an angel sing With news from heaven, which he could bring Fresh every day to my untainted ears When birds and flowers and I were happy peers.
Page 158 - DANDELION. DEAR common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they An Eldorado in the grass have found, Which not the rich earth's ample round May match in wealth, — thou art more dear to me Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be.
Page 59 - There was woman's fearless eye, Lit by her deep love's truth; There was manhood's brow serenely high, And the fiery heart of youth.
Page 129 - The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder light than waning moon. Slow tracing down the thickening sky Its mute and ominous prophecy, A portent seeming less than threat, It sank from sight before it set. A chill no coat, however stout...
Page 203 - Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made ; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea change Into something rich and strange.
Page 96 - O love, they die in yon rich sky. They faint on hill or field or river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul. And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
Page 208 - At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take What I shall die to want: but this is trifling ; And all the more it seeks to...

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