The first (-third, fifth, sixth) reading book, by T. Crampton and T. Turner, Volume 6

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Thomas Crampton, Thomas Turner (F.S.S.)
1858
 

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Page 60 - Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home...
Page 30 - HOW doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower...
Page 70 - One by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall ; Some are coming, some are going — Do not strive to grasp them all. One by one thy duties wait thee, Let thy whole strength go to each : Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what those can teach.
Page 66 - Through glowing orchards forth they peep, Each from its nook of leaves, And fearless there the lowly sleep, As the bird beneath their eaves. The free fair homes of England, Long, long, in hut and hall, May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallowed wall. And green for ever be the groves, And bright the flowery sod, Where first the child's glad spirit loves Its country and its God.
Page 57 - My eyes are weak and dim with age ; No road, no path can I descry ; And these poor rags ill stand the rage Of such a keen, inclement sky. ' So faint I am, these tottering feet No more my feeble frame can bear ; My sinking heart forgets to beat, And drifting snows my tomb prepare.
Page 7 - TWINKLE, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are ! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Page 60 - Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home; A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home, Home, sweet, sweet Home! There's no place like Home!
Page 70 - One by one thy duties wait thee, Let thy whole strength go to each, Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what these can teach. One by one (bright gifts from Heaven) Joys are sent thee here below; Take them readily when given, Ready too to let them go.
Page 86 - To others' failings as your own; If you're the first a fault to see, Be not the first to make it known. For life is but a passing day, No lip...
Page 113 - THE GLEANER. BEFORE the bright sun rises over the hill, In the corn-field poor Mary is seen, Impatient her little blue apron to fill, With the few scatter'd ears she can glean.

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