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answered asked Aunt beautiful bees began bird body bright brothers brown called close coming Conattee cried dark dead deep DEFINITIONS.—1 Describe door earth eyes face father fell fire flowers friends gave give Gluck Golden River green grew grow hand happened happy head heard heart hill killed kind king knew land leaves LESSON light lilies live lizard looked mean moon morning mother nest never night once plant poor round Ruth Seat-Work seemed seen Selonee side singing sleep soon sound spider stone stood stopped story strong sweet tell things thought thread told took tree turned Ulysses voice walked watched wind wings wonderful wood
Стр. 317 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Стр. 108 - New-year, blithe and bold, my friend Comes up to take his own. How hard he breathes ! over the snow I heard just now the crowing cock. The shadows flicker to and fro : The cricket chirps : the light burns low : 'Tis nearly twelve o'clock. Shake hands, before you die. Old year, we'll dearly rue for you : What is it we can do for you ? Speak out before you die.
Стр. 117 - Heaven is not reached at a single bound ; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
Стр. 63 - I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn, Where a little headstone stood; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did robins the babes in the wood. Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying,
Стр. 304 - Of all beasts he learned the language, learned their names and all their secrets, How the beavers built their lodges, Where the squirrels hid their acorns, How the reindeer ran so swiftly, Why the rabbit was so timid, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them
Стр. 107 - Toll ye the church-bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low. For the old year lies a-dying. Old year, you must not die ; You came to us so readily. You lived with us so steadily, Old year, you shall not die.
Стр. 43 - I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine and thin; And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!