The New year's gift; and juvenile souvenir, ed. by mrs. Alaric Watts

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Priscilla Maden Watts
1829
 

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Strana 52 - 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! At last, Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held her fast. He...
Strana 52 - And now, dear little children, who may this story read, To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed; Unto an evil counsellor close heart, and ear, and eye, And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly.
Strana 49 - Oh, no, no," said the little fly, " to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair, can ne'er come down again." "I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the spider to the fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around ; the sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in ! "
Strana 51 - said the Spider, ' you're witty and you're wise ; How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes ! I have a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf, If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.' ' I thank you, gentle sir,' she said, ' for what you're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day.
Strana 50 - I do To prove the warm affection I've always felt for you? I have, within my pantry, Good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome — Will you please to take a slice?" "O no, no," said the little fly, "Kind sir, that cannot be; I've heard what's in your pantry, And I do not wish to see.
Strana 51 - Come hither, hither, pretty Fly, with the pearl and silver wing ; Your robes are green and purple — there's a crest upon your head ; Your eyes are like the diamond bright, but mine are dull as lead...
Strana 29 - And has he left his birds and flowers; And must I call in vain? And through the long, long summer hours, Will he not come again? " And by the brook and in the glade Are all our wanderings o'er? Oh ! while my brother with me play'd, Would I had loved him more !
Strana 28 - OH ! call my brother back to me ! I cannot play alone ; The Summer comes with flower and bee — Where is my brother gone ? " The butterfly is glancing bright Across the sunbeam's track ; I care not now to chase its flight — Oh ! call my brother back ! " The flowers run wild — the flowers we sow'd Around our garden tree; Our vine is drooping with its load — Oh ! call him back to me...
Strana 29 - A rose's brief bright life of joy, Such unto him was given ; Go — thou must play alone, my boy! Thy brother is in heaven." "And has he left his birds and flowers; And must I call in vain? And through the long, long summer hours, Will he not come again? " And by the brook and in the glade Are all our wanderings o'er? Oh ! while my brother with me play'd, Would I had loved him more !
Strana 160 - The moment that the wreck went down, My father seized me fast, And leaping 'mid the thundering waves, Seized on the broken mast : I know not how he bore me up, My senses seemed to swim, A shuddering horror chilled my brain, And stiffened every limb.

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