The Hill ReadersBook five. To help young readers in their first approach to the literature that is life, the editors of this book have sought to choose from the masters of thought and of expression, both in our own and other tongues, such selections as illustrate the power and the methods of these writers, and also such as may by their intelligibility and attractiveness incite young minds to first-hand study. -- Preface. |
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The Hill Readers, Գիրք 1 Daniel Harvey Hill,Frank Lincoln Stevens,Charles William Burkett Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1907 |
The Hill Readers, Book 1 Charles William Burkett,Daniel Harvey Hill,Frank Lincoln Stevens Դիտել հնարավոր չէ - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Allan-a-Dale Alvilda apples archers arrow asked band bear began birds Bodhisatta born Brazen Head bright Brother Drouth called Chanticleer child cock cried door dream Dryad Dundas County Eurytus eyes face father Friar Bacon friends Fritz Gilbert goat gold gone grapevine swing Gudbrand hand hare hear heard heart Heracles hill horse Iphitus JAMES THOMAS FIELDS Joel Chandler Harris knew lapwings laughed little Daffydowndilly Little John little prince lived looked MADISON CAWEIN McIntosh merry mother Nestie never night Noll Old Pipes once Pierrot poems poet poor prince Queen Eleanor quoth Richard Partington Robin Hood Saracen seemed sheep shoot shot shouted side Sir Oliver smile Sophy star stood stories stout tail tell Tepus thee things thou thought Toil told took tree turned Uncle Rain village voice wings wonderful woods yeomen young
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Էջ 92 - Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door...
Էջ 309 - The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot Sun, And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead. That is the grasshopper's : he takes the lead In summer luxury — he has never done With his delights, for when tired out with fun, He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
Էջ 92 - The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. 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.
Էջ 298 - Knowledge never learned of schools, Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild-flower's time and place, Flight of fowl and habitude Of the tenants of the wood ; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the ground-mole sinks his well ; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Էջ 175 - He tore out a reed, the great god Pan, From the deep, cool bed of the river; The limpid water turbidly ran, And the broken lilies a-dying lay, And the dragon-fly had fled away Ere he brought it out of the river.
Էջ 94 - It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise! He needs must think of her once more, How in the grave she lies; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes.
Էջ 94 - Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. 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.
Էջ 266 - Forward, the Light Brigade ! Charge for the guns ! " he said : Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade...
Էջ 67 - I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding ; and, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down.
Էջ 254 - To supper at last the farmer goes. The apples are pared, the paper read, The stories are told, then all to bed. Without, the crickets' ceaseless song Makes shrill the silence all night long; The heavy dews are falling. The housewife's hand has turned the lock; Drowsily ticks the kitchen clock; The household sinks to deep repose; But still in sleep the farm-boy goes. Singing, calling,— "Co', boss! co', boss! co'!