The Royal readers. (Roy. sch. ser.). Ser.3. No.1,2 [2 eds.], 4

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Side 49 - And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." " How many are you, then," said I, " If they two are in heaven ?" Quick was the little Maid's reply,
Side 103 - OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray : And, when I crossed the wild, I chanced to see at break of day The solitary Child. No mate, no comrade Lucy knew ; She dwelt on a wide moor, — The sweetest thing that ever grew Beside a human door ! You yet may spy the fawn at play, The hare upon the green ; But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. " To-night will be a stormy night — You to the town must go ; And take a lantern, Child, to light Your mother through the snow.
Side 47 - Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother: And in the churchyard cottage I Dwell near them with my mother.
Side 187 - Tis want that makes my cheek so pale. Yet I was once a mother's pride, And my brave father's hope and joy; But in the Nile's proud fight he died, And I am now an orphan boy. "Poor foolish child, how pleased was I, When news of Nelson's victory came, Along the crowded streets to fly, And see the lighted windows...
Side 104 - You to the town must go ; And take a lantern, Child, to light Your mother through the snow." " That, Father! will I gladly do: Tis scarcely afternoon — The minster-clock has just struck two, And yonder is the moon!
Side 105 - Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living child ; That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome wild. O'er rough and smooth she trips along, And never looks behind ; And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind.
Side 47 - That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ? I met a little cottage Girl : She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: Her eyes were fair, and very fair ; — Her beauty made me glad. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me.
Side 54 - Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing; Your robes are green and purple, there 'sa crest upon your head; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead.
Side 82 - OH ! call my brother back to me, I cannot play alone ; The summer comes, with flower and bee — Where is my brother gone ? The butterfly is glancing bright Across the sunbeam's track; I care not now to chase its flight — Oh ! call my brother back. The flowers run wild— the flowers we sowed Around our garden tree; Our Tine is drooping with its load — Oh ! call him back to me.
Side 73 - Not there, not there, my child !" " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things...

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