Graded Composition Lessons: In Three Parts, Part 1

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Newson and Company, 1904 - English language
 

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Page 122 - Then the little Hiawatha Learned of every bird its language, Learned their names and all their secrets, How they built their nests in Summer, Where they hid themselves in Winter, Talked with them whene'er he met them, Called them
Page 138 - FULL knee-deep lies the winter snow, And the winter winds are wearily sighing: Toll ye the church -bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying.
Page 165 - WOODMAN, spare that tree! Touch not a single bough; In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not! That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea, And wouldst thou hew it down ? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties; Oh, spare that aged oak, Now towering to the skies. When but an idle boy I sought its grateful shade; In all their gushing...
Page 172 - RESPECTED PATERNAL RELATIVE, — I write to make a request of the most moderate nature. Every year I have cost you an enormous — nay, elephantine — sum of money for drugs and physician's fees, and the most expensive time of the twelve months was March. But this year the biting Oriental blasts, the howling tempests, and the general ailments of the human race have been successfully braved by yours truly. Does not this deserve remuneration ? I appeal to your charity, I appeal to your generosity,...
Page 120 - Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Page 151 - Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie: There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily : Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Page 144 - OUT of the bosom of the Air, Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow. Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression, Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels. This is the poem of the air, Slowly...
Page 73 - The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept. Were toiling upward in the night.
Page 127 - Where did you get those eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. What makes the light in them sparkle and spin? Some of the starry spikes left in. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here.
Page 13 - BE NOBLE ! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping, but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own...

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