Отзывы - Написать отзыв
Не удалось найти ни одного отзыва.
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
answer asked beautiful began bells better bird body breath bright bring bugs called child close comes dark dear earth EXERCISE eyes face fall father feel feet fish flowers friends Fritz give gold grow half hand happy hard head hear heard heart hold hundred hurrah Jacob keep kind king land laugh leaves light live look lost mean moon morning muscles nest never night once passed piece play poor replied rest round salt seemed seen side singing sitting sleep Sometimes song soon sound spring stand stop stream summer suppose sweet tell things thought told tongue took tree turned VOICE wind wish wonderful wood young
Стр. 198 - 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.
Стр. 130 - I'll be as busy as they." Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest; He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dressed In diamond beads ; and over the breast Of the quivering lake he spread A coat of mail, that it need not fear The downward point of many a spear, That he hung on its margin, far and near, Where a rock could rear its head.
Стр. 117 - Reaper Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound.
Стр. 160 - Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for." " It was the English," Kaspar cried, " Who put the French to rout; But what they killed each other for, I could not well make out : But everybody said," quoth he,
Стр. 160 - twas a famous victory! "My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly ; So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head.
Стр. 117 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Стр. 206 - 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. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
Стр. 160 - They say it was a shocking sight after the field was won; for many thousand bodies here lay rotting in the sun; but things like that, you know, must be after a famous victory. Great praise the Duke of Marlbro' won, and our good Prince Eugene. "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" said little Wilhelmine. "Nay... nay... my little girl," quoth he, "it was a famous victory.