Original poems for infant minds, by several young persons [A. and J. Taylor and others].

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Page 98 - 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.
Page 104 - In a dairy a crow, Having ventured to go Some food for her young ones to seek, Flew up in the trees With a fine piece of cheese, Which she joyfully held in her beak.
Page 47 - And many a little fish he caught, And pleased was he to look To see them writhe in agony And struggle on the hook. At last, when having caught enough, And also tired himself, He hasten'd home, intending there To put them on a shelf.
Page 20 - And when he came well nigh the ghost That gave him such affright, He clapped his hands upon his side, And loudly laughed outright. For 'twas a friendly hand-post stood His wand'rings steps to guide ; And thus he found that to the good No evil can betide.
Page 106 - To the tree saw her fly, And to share in the prize made a vow ; For having just dined, He for cheese felt inclined, So he went and sat under the bough. She was cunning, .he knew, But so was he too, And with flattery adapted his plan ; For he knew if she'd speak, It must fall from her beak, So, bowing politely, began. " Tis a very fine day : " (Not a word did she say ;) " The wind, I believe, ma'am, is south ; A fine harvest for peas : " He then look'd at the cheese, But the crow did not open her...
Page i - How skilfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax ! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill I would be busy too: For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
Page 138 - Stop, stop, little ant, do not run off so fast, Wait with me a little and play ; I hope I shall find a companion at last, You are not so busy as they.
Page 108 - O there are the mountains, half covered with snow, With tall and dark trees, like a girdle of green, And waters that wind in the valleys below, Or roar in the caverns, too deep to be seen. Vast caves in the earth, full of wonderful things, The bones of strange animals, jewels, and spars ; Or, far up in Iceland, the hot boiling springs, Like fountains of feathers, or showers of stars ! Here, spread the sweet meadows with thousands of flowers ; Far away are old woods, that for ages remain ; Wild elephants...
Page 96 - 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.
Page 37 - You are not so healthy and gay, So young, so active, and bright, That death cannot snatch you away, Or some dreadful accident smite. Here lie both the young and the old, Confined in the coffin so small, And the earth closes over them cold, And the grave- worm devours them all.

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