Original Poems for Infant MindsSaxton & Miles, 1844 |
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ADELAIDE American Expositor beam birds Blanchidine bosom bread breast bright CHARLES ELIOT NORTON charming cheerful child cold cried cruel dark dark season dear little delight Dick doll door dreadful dressed father fear fire flower friends green head hear heard heart idle Jane John Brown John Tomkins kind lady Lapwing laugh little boy little girl little worm look mamma Matilda merry mind morning mother mouse naughty neat nest never night NOVEMBER 16 o'er Old Sarah pain papa peep play pleasure Pompey poor little pray pretty rose round SAXTON & MILES Schools seen sing sleep smiling snow snowdrop song soon spider sure sweet tall tall fir tears tempest thee thing thou thought tit for tat tree village green walk warm wicked wind wings wish Woodland House young
Popular passages
Page 61 - Ah, no ! the thought I cannot bear, And if GOD please my life to spare, I hope I shall reward thy care, My Mother. When thou art feeble, old, and gray, My healthy arm shall be thy stay, And 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 167 - Down in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view.
Page 90 - Heydey! and what's the matter now?" Cried grandmamma, with lifted brow. Matilda, smarting with the pain, And tingling still, and sore, Made many a promise to refrain From meddling evermore. And 'tis a fact, as I have heard, She ever since has kept her word.
Page 68 - (Not a word did she say) : " The wind, I believe, ma'am, is south; A fine harvest for peas : " He then looked at the cheese, But the crow did not open her mouth.
Page 52 - WASHING AND DRESSING. AH ! why will my dear little girl be so cross, And cry, and look sulky, and pout ? To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss, I can 't even kiss her without.
Page 59 - My Mother WHO fed me from her gentle breast, And hushed me in her arms to rest, And on my cheek sweet kisses prest ? My Mother.
Page 1 - 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 88 - Sometimes she'd lift the tea-pot lid, To peep at what was in it; Or tilt the kettle, if you did But turn your back a minute. In vain you told her not to touch, Her trick of meddling grew so much. Her grandmamma went out one day, And by mistake she laid Her spectacles and snuff-box gay Too near the little maid ; "Ah! well," thought she, "I'll try them on, As soon as grandmamma is gone.
Page 32 - But stop, little boy, take your hand from the bough ! Remember, though old John can't see you just now, And no one to chide you is nigh, There is ONE, who by night, just as well as by day, Can see all you do, and can hear all you say, From his glorious throne in the sky.
Page 60 - 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.