The Public-school Journal: Devoted to the Theory and Art of School Teaching and Close Supervision, Volume 11

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Public-School Publishing Company, 1891

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Página 24 - 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. 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.
Página 245 - The mists, that wrapped the pilgrim's sleep, Still brood upon the tide; And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep To stay its waves of pride; But the snow-white sail, that he gave to the gale When the heavens looked dark, is gone, As an angel's wing, through an opening cloud, Is seen, and then withdrawn.
Página 367 - ... the actual market value, or wholesale price of such merchandise as bought and sold in usual wholesale quantities at the time of exportation to the United States, In the principal markets of the country from whence imported...
Página 24 - 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.
Página 51 - Doon's low trees, And pastoral Nith, and wooded Ayr, And round thy sepulchres, Dumfries! The Poet's tomb is there.
Página 463 - When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand, The symbol of her chosen land.
Página 448 - Come, little leaves," said the wind one day, "Come o'er the meadows with me and play, Put on your dresses of red and gold; Summer is gone and the days grow cold." Soon as the leaves heard the wind's loud call, Down they came fluttering, one and all; Over the brown fields they danced and flew, Singing the soft little songs they knew.
Página 575 - We don't want to fight, but by Jingo if we do, We've got the men, we've got the ships, we've got the money too, We've fought the Bear before, and while we're Britons true, The Russians shall not have Constantinople.
Página 24 - 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.
Página 529 - Overworked men and women, the nervous, weak and debilitated, will find in the Acid Phosphate a most agreeable, grateful and harmless stimulant, giving renewed strength and vigor to the entire system. Dr. Edwin F. Vose, Portland, Me., says : " I have used it in my own case when suffering from nervous exhaustion, with gratifying results. I have prescribed it for many of the various forms of nervous debility, and it has never failed to do good.

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