The Cyr Readers Arranged by Grades: Book three

Etukansi
Ginn, Publishers, 1901
 

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Sivu 63 - KIND hearts are the gardens, Kind thoughts are the roots, Kind words are the blossoms, Kind deeds are the fruits; Love is the sweet sunshine That warms into life, For only in darkness Grow hatred and strife.
Sivu 12 - 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...
Sivu 147 - I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn Where a little headstone stood ; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did robins the babes in the wood. Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying, "Father, who makes it snow?
Sivu 145 - THE snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep with pearl.
Sivu 124 - Little white Lily Sat by a stone, Drooping and waiting Till the sun shone. Little white Lily Sunshine has fed ; Little white Lily Is lifting her head. Little white Lily Said, " It is good ; Little white Lily's Clothing and food.
Sivu 12 - 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.
Sivu 27 - He saw her lift her eyes; he felt The soft hand's light caressing, And heard the tremble of her voice As if a fault confessing. "I'm sorry that I spelt the word: I hate to go above you, Because," — the brown eyes lower fell, — "Because, you see, I love you!
Sivu 13 - For, eschewing books and tasks, Nature answers all he asks; Hand in hand with her he walks, Face to face with her he talks, Part and parcel of her joy, — Blessings on the barefoot boy!

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