The book of object lessons, a teacher's manual

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Стр. 156 - With her great Master so to sympathize : It was no season then for her To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. Only with speeches fair She woos the gentle air, To hide her guilty front with innocent snow ; And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; Confounded, that her Maker's eyes, Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
Стр. 81 - A fire devoureth before them; and behind them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them.
Стр. 140 - No forest fell When thou wouldst build ; no quarry sent its stores To enrich thy walls : but thou didst hew the floods, And make thy marble of the glassy wave.
Стр. 88 - DEEP in the wave is a coral grove, Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue, That never are wet with falling dew, But in bright and changeful beauty shine, Far down in the green and glassy brine.
Стр. 44 - Bear me, Pomona ! to thy citron groves ; To where the lemon and the piercing lime, With the deep orange, glowing through the green, Their lighter glories blend.
Стр. 148 - But for it, the rainbow would want its ' triumphal arch,' and the winds would not send their fleecy messengers on errands round the heavens. The cold ether would not shed its snow-feathers on the earth, nor would drops of dew gather on the flowers.
Стр. 148 - So massive is it that, when it begins to stir, it tosses about great ships like playthings, and sweeps cities and forests like snow-flakes to destruction before it.
Стр. 83 - Onward they came, a dark continuous cloud Of congregated myriads numberless, The rushing of whose wings was as the sound Of a broad river, headlong in its course Plunged from a mountain summit; or the roar Of a wild ocean in the autumn storm, Shattering its billows on a shore of rocks.
Стр. 151 - And see the rivers how they run, Through woods and meads, in shade and sun Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, Wave succeeding wave, they go A various journey to the deep, Like human life, to endless sleep...
Стр. 74 - BIRD of the broad and sweeping wing ! Thy home is high in heaven, Where wide the storms their banners fling, And the tempest clouds are driven. Thy throne is on the mountain top ; Thy fields — the boundless air; And hoary peaks, that proudly prop The skies — thy dwellings are.

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