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Page 19 - Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go.
Page 45 - How skilfully she builds her cell ! How neat she spreads the wax ! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour, or of skill, I would be busy too ; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be past; That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
Page 42 - Humble though they be, Make the mighty ages Of eternity. So our little errors Lead the soul away From the paths of virtue, Oft in sin to stray. Little deeds of kindness, Little words of love, Make our earth an Eden, Like the heaven above.
Page 57 - With oak leaves strewn around. The wren builds in an ivied thorn, Or old and ruined wall ; The mossy nest, so covered in, You scarce can see at all. The martins build their nests of clay, In rows beneath the eaves ; While silvery lichens, moss and hair, The chaffinch interweaves.
Page 61 - ABROAD in the meadows to see the young lambs Run sporting about by the side of their dams, With fleeces so clean and so white ; Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage, When they play all in love, without anger or rage, How much...
Page 40 - Poor girl, hard at work in the heat of the sun, How tired and hot you must be ; Why don't you leave off, as the others have done, And sit with them under the tree ? " " Oh, no ! for my mother lies ill in her bed, Too feeble to spin or to knit ; And my poor little brothers are crying for bread, And yet we can't give them a bit ! " Then could I be merry, and idle, and play, While they are so hungry and ill ? Oh, no, I had rather work hard all the day, My little blue apron to fill.
Page 23 - The poor Fly. So, so, you are running away, Mr. Fly, But I'll come at you now, if you don't go too high; There, there, I have caught you, you can't get away : Never mind, my old fellow, I'm only in play.
Page 19 - He followed her to school one day — That was against the rule. It made the children laugh and play To see a lamb at school.
Page 51 - Tis reported of him, And must be to his lasting disgrace, That he never was seen With hands at all clean, Nor yet ever clean was his face. His friends were much hurt To see so much dirt, And often they made him quite clean; But all was in vain, He got dirty again, And not at all fit to be seen.