The Eaton Readers: First-[fifth] reader

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Isabel Moore
Eaton & Company, 1906
 

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Seite 155 - I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling...
Seite 108 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Anabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
Seite 284 - The name of the child, the air of the mother, the tone of her voice, all awakened a train of recollections in his mind. "What is your name, my good woman?
Seite 107 - IT was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Seite 47 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Seite 156 - I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river: For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Seite 281 - ... and left with his elbows as he passed, and planting himself before Van Winkle, with one arm akimbo, the other resting on his cane, his keen eyes and sharp hat penetrating as it were, into his very soul, demanded in an austere tone, " What brought him to the election with a gun on his shoulder, and a mob at his heels ? and whether he meant to breed a riot in the village ? " —
Seite 261 - WHOEVER has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Kaatskill mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family, and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country.
Seite 279 - This desolateness overcame all his connubial fears. He called loudly for his wife and children : the lonely chambers rang for a moment with his voice, and then all again was silence. He now hurried forth, and hastened to his old resort, the village inn ; but it, too, was gone. A large, rickety, wooden building stood in its place, with great, gaping windows, some of them broken and mended with old hats and petticoats ; and over the door was painted, " The Union Hotel, by Jonathan Doolittle.
Seite 288 - He used to tell his story to every stranger that arrived at Mr. Doolittle's hotel. He was observed, at first, to vary on some points every time he told it, which was, doubtless, owing to his having so recently awaked. It at last settled down precisely to the tale I have related, and not a man, woman, or child in the neighborhood but knew it by heart.

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