Graded Poetry: First and second years, [third-eighth year], Volume 3

Front Cover
Katherine Devereux Blake, Georgia Alexander
Maynard, Merrill, 1905 - Children's poetry
 

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 36 - At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise. Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe!
Page 51 - His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan ; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.
Page 35 - Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, With the masts went by the board; Like a vessel of glass she stove and sank — Ho! ho!
Page 53 - Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION.
Page 50 - Wild is thy lay, and loud, Far in the downy cloud ; Love gives it energy, love gave it birth! Where, on thy dewy wing — Where art thou journeying ? Thy lay is in heaven ; thy love is on earth.
Page 10 - Boy's Song Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lies asleep, Up the river and o'er the lea, That's the way for Billy and me. Where the blackbird sings the latest, Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, Where the nestlings chirp and flee, That's the way for Billy and me. Where the mowers mow the cleanest, Where the hay lies thick and greenest, There to trace the homeward bee, That's the way for Billy and me.
Page 50 - Though the flinty slopes be hard, Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Every morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew ; Every evening from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat; All too soon these feet must hide In the prison cells of pride...
Page 27 - The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink ; I heard a voice ; it said, " Drink, pretty Creature, drink !" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied A snow-white mountain Lamb with a Maiden at its side.
Page 47 - BLESSINGS on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes ; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace ; From my heart I give thee joy, — I was once a barefoot boy ! Prince thou art, — the grown-up man Only is republican.

Bibliographic information