Graded Memory SelectionsS. D. Waterman, J. W. McClymonds, C. C. Hughes Educational Publishing Company, 1903 - 192 pages |
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Results 1-5 of 43
Page 3
... 25 . 26 • Morning Song Suppose , My Little Lady The Day's Eye The Night Wind . • The Blue - bird's Song Anon . 27 · 28 • 29 • • Eugene Field 30 • Anon . 21 Suppos Autumn Leaves If I Were a Sunbeam Meadow Talk 3 CONTENTS .
... 25 . 26 • Morning Song Suppose , My Little Lady The Day's Eye The Night Wind . • The Blue - bird's Song Anon . 27 · 28 • 29 • • Eugene Field 30 • Anon . 21 Suppos Autumn Leaves If I Were a Sunbeam Meadow Talk 3 CONTENTS .
Page 6
... Night The Builders • Polonius ' Advice to Loertes Thanatopsis • The American Flag • Edward R. Sill GRADE . . Longfellow • Longfellow . Shakespeare Speech at the Dedication of the National Cemetery at Get- tysburg W. C. Bryant · · 147 ...
... Night The Builders • Polonius ' Advice to Loertes Thanatopsis • The American Flag • Edward R. Sill GRADE . . Longfellow • Longfellow . Shakespeare Speech at the Dedication of the National Cemetery at Get- tysburg W. C. Bryant · · 147 ...
Page 11
... night a soft wind rocks the corn , One more butter - cup wakes to the morn , Somewhere . One more rose - bud shy will unfold , One more grass - blade push through the mould , One more bird's song the air will hold , Somewhere . -Agnes L ...
... night a soft wind rocks the corn , One more butter - cup wakes to the morn , Somewhere . One more rose - bud shy will unfold , One more grass - blade push through the mould , One more bird's song the air will hold , Somewhere . -Agnes L ...
Page 13
... , Silently lower the anchor down : Dear little passenger , say " Good - night . " We've reached the harbor of Shadowtown . -Anon . MY SHADOW . I have a little shadow that goes MEMORY SELECTIONS . 13 Anon Stevenson Anon.
... , Silently lower the anchor down : Dear little passenger , say " Good - night . " We've reached the harbor of Shadowtown . -Anon . MY SHADOW . I have a little shadow that goes MEMORY SELECTIONS . 13 Anon Stevenson Anon.
Page 21
... night ? I wait and wait till the cool dews fall And my hair grows long and white . And what do you do when your hair is white And the children come to play ? They take me up in their dimpled hands And blow my hair away . --Anon . A ...
... night ? I wait and wait till the cool dews fall And my hair grows long and white . And what do you do when your hair is white And the children come to play ? They take me up in their dimpled hands And blow my hair away . --Anon . A ...
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Common terms and phrases
Alfred Tennyson Alice Cary Anon baby basket beautiful bird blossoms blow blue Blynken and Nod boat brave bright brown brown thrush Celia Thaxter chackle cheeks child cloud Copyrighted by Houghton daisies dandelion dark dead dear dream earth Edward Rowland Sill Edwin Markham Eugene Field eyes feet flag flowers glad gold golden grass grow hands hath hear heard heart heaven hold in fee J. G. Holland light little boy lives Longfellow Lord man's son inherit Mary Mapes Dodge Mifflin moon morning nest never night o'er Phoebe Cary Pittypat and Tippytoe pretty Pussy rain Reprinted by permission rest Robert Louis Stevenson Robin runcible spoon sail Shadowtown shine sing skies sleep soft song somewhere soul stars stole thee thine things thou thought three little birds Three little bugs toil tree voice wave wind Wynken Yoooooooooo
Popular passages
Page 83 - 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. 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,...
Page 151 - To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language ; for his gayer hours She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides Into his darker musings, with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness, ere he is aware.
Page 108 - The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed ; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore.
Page 107 - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start ; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.
Page 109 - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine! Aye, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God!
Page 112 - Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town tonight, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,— One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and...
Page 100 - And Nature, the old nurse, took The child upon her knee, Saying: "Here is a story-book Thy Father has written for thee." " Come, wander with me," she said, " Into regions yet untrod ; And read what is still unread In the manuscripts of God." And he wandered away and away With Nature, the dear old nurse, Who sang to him night and day The rhymes of the universe. And whenever the way seemed long, Or his heart began to fail, She would sing a more wonderful song, Or tell a more marvellous tale.
Page 142 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favorite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; "The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the churchway path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 165 - We know what Master laid thy keel, What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope. What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat, Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Page 106 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.