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animals Author bear begin better blow blue bread bright child clothes cold comes cross daisies dear dear mamma Edition ev'ry face feet fight flow'rs fret garden give glad gone grass green grow Growler half bound happy hard head hear Here's hide HISTORY hope I'll idle kind kiss kittens lady lark leaves light little baby little birds little girl live look mamma merry mind morning mother naughty neat nest never nice night once pain papa pass Peeping play pleasant Poems poor pray pretty Price Priscilla Wakefield round seen shines sing sleep song soon spring stand story sure sweet teach tears tell thank thing thought tree true walk warm wicked yellow young
Página 10 - TWINKLE, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are, Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Página 90 - tis all very true, But if I were half as much mischief to do, Indeed they would love me no better than you. You have a fine shape, and a delicate wing, They own you are handsome, but then there's one thing They cannot put up with, and that is your sting.
Página 67 - Dear mother/' said a little fish, "Pray is not that a fly? I'm very hungry, and I wish You'd let me go and try.
Página 54 - To warm and to guard them, her love was so strong ; And her mate sat beside her and sung her a song. One day the young birds were all crying for food, So off flew their mother away from her brood ; And up came some boys who were wicked and rude.
Página 55 - Peeping on the flower-bed, Looking all so green and gay On this fine and pleasant day. For the mild south wind doth blow, And hath melted all the snow, And the sun shines out so warm, You need not fear another storm. So your pretty...
Página 2 - Yes, my darling, well I know How the bitter wind doth blow ; And the winter's snow and rain, Patter on the window-pane ; But they cannot come in here, To my little baby dear ; For the window shutteth fast, Till the stormy night is past ; And the curtains warm are spread Round about her cradle-bed ; So till morning shineth bright, Little baby dear, good night.
Página 17 - COME here to papa, and I'll tell my dear boy, (For I think he would never have guessed) How many poor animals we must employ, Before little Charles can be dressed. The pretty sheep gives you the wool from his sides, To make you a jacket to use ; And the dog or the seal must be stript of their hides, To give you a couple of shoes.
Página 10 - And often through my curtains peep, For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky.