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Anne Association baby beautiful bees believe better Billy birds brown building called carried Charlotte Chicago child Circle color comes cotton course eggs experience eyes Farmer Father feel flowers follow Fourth garden Gift girl give given green ground grow hand happy head interest Joe-Boy keep kind kindergarten knew leaves live looked means meeting Milwaukee Miss morning Mother Gipsy nature nest never Normal Occupation organization picture plant play practical present pretty seeds side songs soon story street suggestion sure talk teacher tell things Third thought told tree wanted week window wonderful
Page 88 - Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not.
Page 308 - I knock and fail to find you in; For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake and rise to fight and win. Wail not for precious chances passed away, Weep not for golden ages on the wane; Each night I burn the records of the day, At sunrise every soul is born again. Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb: My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep,...
Page 308 - Weep not for golden ages on the wane! Each night I burn the records of the day; At sunrise every soul is born again. Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Tho' deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep; I lend my arm to all who say, "I can!
Page 127 - For this man was counted worthy of more glory than Moses, inasmuch as he who hath builded the house, hath more honour than the house. 4 For every house is builded by some man; but he that built all things is God.
Page 308 - I can !" No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But yet might rise again and be a man ! Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast ? Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow ? Then turn from blotted archives of the past And find the future pages white as snow.
Page 382 - It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishment the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul Goodbye my darling, darling boy.
Page 139 - No, when the fight begins within himself, A man's worth something. God stoops o'er his head, Satan looks up between his feet— both tug— He's left, himself, i' the middle; the soul wakes And grows.
Page 127 - And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust of your feet.
Page 627 - It is a development of experience and into experience that is really wanted.^ And this is impossible save as just that educative medium is provided which will enable the powers and interests that have been selected as valuable to function. They must operate, and how they operate will depend almost entirely upon the stimuli which surround them, and the material upon which they...