Songs for the Little Ones at HomeAmerican Tract Society, 1852 - Всего страниц: 288 |
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Стр. 8
... rude danger lies before thee : Sleep , baby , sleep . Sleep , baby , sleep , No longer weep ; Germ of beauty , bud and blossom , Rest upon thy Saviour's bosom : Sleep , baby , sleep . Sleep , baby , sleep , No longer weep ; 8 SONGS FOR THE.
... rude danger lies before thee : Sleep , baby , sleep . Sleep , baby , sleep , No longer weep ; Germ of beauty , bud and blossom , Rest upon thy Saviour's bosom : Sleep , baby , sleep . Sleep , baby , sleep , No longer weep ; 8 SONGS FOR THE.
Стр. 9
... Rest upon thy downy pillow : Sleep , baby , sleep . Hastings ' " Nursery Songs . " HUSHABY . Hushaby , hushaby , Baby , do not weep ; On thy downy pillow lie , Softly , softly sleep . Hushaby , hushaby , Now thine eyelids close ; While ...
... Rest upon thy downy pillow : Sleep , baby , sleep . Hastings ' " Nursery Songs . " HUSHABY . Hushaby , hushaby , Baby , do not weep ; On thy downy pillow lie , Softly , softly sleep . Hushaby , hushaby , Now thine eyelids close ; While ...
Стр. 15
... Rest your little weary head ;. " Tis your mother rocks her boy In his little cradle bed . Lullaby , sweet lullaby ! All the little birds are sleeping- Every one has gone to rest ; And my precious one is resting In his pretty cradle nest ...
... Rest your little weary head ;. " Tis your mother rocks her boy In his little cradle bed . Lullaby , sweet lullaby ! All the little birds are sleeping- Every one has gone to rest ; And my precious one is resting In his pretty cradle nest ...
Стр. 25
... rest the head , And sleep until the morrow : May every day thus glide away , Without a shade of sorrow . THE FLY . ' T was God that made the little fly ; But if you pinch it , it will die . 3 My mother tells me , God has said We must ...
... rest the head , And sleep until the morrow : May every day thus glide away , Without a shade of sorrow . THE FLY . ' T was God that made the little fly ; But if you pinch it , it will die . 3 My mother tells me , God has said We must ...
Стр. 40
... rest Within my breast , Great Spirit of all grace ; Make me like thee , Then I shall be Prepared to see thy face . THE GOLDEN RULE . To do to others as I would That they should do to me , Will make me honest , kind , and good , As ...
... rest Within my breast , Great Spirit of all grace ; Make me like thee , Then I shall be Prepared to see thy face . THE GOLDEN RULE . To do to others as I would That they should do to me , Will make me honest , kind , and good , As ...
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AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY awake baby bells are ringing blessed bread bright brother busy bee Cherries are ripe chick-a-de-dee cold darling dear little dear mamma Dear Mary eyes Father fear flowers friends gentle give glad glory Good-morning good-night happy happy land Hastings head hear heard heart heaven holy Hushaby Jesus Johnny Bell keep kind kiss kite lambs light little birds little boy little child little children little darling little girl LITTLE PONY look Lord Mary merry mild moolly cow morning mother ne'er nest never nice night Nursery Songs o'er play pleasant poor praise pray prayer pretty thing rest Robert Reid robin Sabbath Sabbath-day Saviour sing sister sleep smile snow soft soon soul sweet sweetly Taylor tell thee There's things thou to-day tree walk warm watch wings young
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Стр. 270 - Amidst the storm they sang, And the stars heard, and the sea ; And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang To the anthem of the free ! The ocean eagle soared From his nest by the white wave's foam, And the rocking pines of the forest roared, — This was their welcome home.
Стр. 141 - Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea; "Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the churchyard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.
Стр. 58 - Little drops of water, Little grains of sand Make the mighty ocean, And the pleasant land.
Стр. 109 - In works of labour, or of skill, I would be busy too ; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.
Стр. 142 - And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there.
Стр. 263 - Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little Fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by; With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,— Thinking only of her brilliant eyes, and green and purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head— poor foolish thing!
Стр. 167 - WHAT IS THAT, MOTHER? 1. WHAT is that, mother ? — The lark, my child. The morn has but just looked out and smiled, When he starts from his humble, grassy nest, And is up and away, with the dew on his breast, And a hymn in his heart, to yon pure, bright sphere, To warble it out in his Maker's ear. Ever, my child, be thy morn's first lays Tuned, like the lark's, to thy Maker's praise. 2. What is that, mother ? — The dove, my son.
Стр. 194 - Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
Стр. 269 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted came, Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame ; Not as the flying come, In silence...
Стр. 224 - I think, when I read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here among men, How He called little children as lambs to His fold, I should like to have been with them then.