Correspondence between a mother and her daughter at school. Original poems for infant minds. Display, a tale

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Perkins, Marvin, 1835
 

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Стр. 245 - And standing stock still, leaning over the stream, Was musing, perhaps, or perhaps she might dream ; "But soon a brown ass, of respectable look, Came trotting up, also, to taste of the brook, And to nibble a few of the daisies and grass. ' How d'ye do ? ' said the cow ; ' How d'ye do ? ' said the ass. " ' Take a seat/ cried the cow, gently waving her hand. 'By no means, dear madam,
Стр. 290 - DOWN in a green and shady bed A modest violet grew ; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view. And...
Стр. 183 - Ah, no ! the thought I cannot bear, And if GOD please my life to spare, I hope I shall reward thy care, My Mother. When thou art feeble, old, and gray, My healthy arm shall be thy stay, And I will soothe thy pains away, My Mother. And when I see thee hang thy head, 'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed, And tears of sweet affection shed, My Mother. For GOD, who lives above the skies, Would look with vengeance in His eyes, If I should ever dare despise My Mother.
Стр. 212 - Heyday! and what's the matter now ? " Says grandmamma with lifted brow. Matilda, smarting with the pain, And tingling still, and sore, Made many a promise to refrain From meddling evermore. And 'tis a fact, as I have heard, She ever since has kept her word.
Стр. 154 - But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough ! Remember, though old John can't see you just now, And no one to chide you is nigh, There is ONE, who by night, just as well as by day, Can see all you do, and can hear all you say, From his glorious throne in the sky.
Стр. 210 - Sometimes she'd lift the tea-pot lid, To peep at what was in it; Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute. In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much. Her grandmamma went out one day, And by mistake she laid Her spectacles and snuff-box gay Too near the little maid ; "Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on, As soon as grandmamma is gone.
Стр. 181 - Mother WHO fed me from her gentle breast, And hushed me in her arms to rest, And on my cheek sweet kisses prest ? My Mother.
Стр. 261 - I've only been raking a bit in the gutter, Where cook had been pouring some cold melted butter, And a slice of green cabbage, and scraps of cold meat: Just a trifle or two, that I thought I could eat.
Стр. 290 - WAY TO BE HAPPY. HOW pleasant it is, at the end of the day, No follies to have to repent. But reflect on the past, and be able to say, That my time has been properly spent. When I've done all my bus'ness with patience and care, And been good, and obliging, and kind; I lay on my pillow, and sleep away there, With a happy and peaceable mind.
Стр. 182 - My Mother. Who ran to help me when I fell, And would some pretty story tell, Or kiss the place to make it well? My Mother.

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