Story Hour Readings: Fourth year

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American Book Company, 1921 - 367 pages

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Page 162 - TO A WATERFOWL Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along.
Page 272 - We thought as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow.
Page 105 - For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths— for you the shores a-crowding, For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head! It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.
Page 313 - Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition comports with those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and reconciliation?
Page 294 - But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be.
Page 293 - And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, Bozzaris cheer his band: "Strike ! till the last armed foe expires ! Strike ! for your altars and your fires ! Strike ! for the green graves of your sires ; God, and your native land...
Page 329 - WHAT CONSTITUTES A STATE? BY WILLIAM JONES "1 T 7"HAT constitutes a State ? * * Not high-raised battlement or labored mound, Thick wall or moated gate ; Not cities proud with spires and turrets crowned ; • Not bays and broad-armed ports, Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride ; Not starred 'and spangled courts, Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride. No : — men, high-minded men...
Page 315 - There is a just God who presides over the destinies of nations; and who will raise up friends to fight our battles for us.
Page 178 - His going forth is from the end of the heaven, And his circuit unto the ends of it : And there is nothing hid from the heat thereof.
Page 305 - WARREN'S ADDRESS AT THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL BY JOHN PIERPONT OTAND! the ground's your own, my braves! ^ Will ye give it up to slaves?

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