The trial of skill; or, Which is the best story? By the author of 'The juvenile Sunday library'.

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Strana 206 - 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 180 - No wailing ghost shall dare appear To vex with shrieks this quiet grove ; But shepherd lads assemble here, And melting virgins own their love. No...
Strana 206 - 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 the 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 played, Would I had loved him more!
Strana 206 - OH ! call my brother back to me ! I cannot play alone ; The summer comes with flower and bee ; Where is my brother gone...
Strana 204 - He will not come," said the gentle child, And she patted the poor dog's head, And she pleasantly called him and fondly smiled ; But he heeded her not in his anguish wild, Nor arose from his lowly bed. 'Twas his master's grave where he chose to rest — He guarded it night and day; The love that glowed in his grateful breast, For the friend who had fed, controlled, caressed, Might never fade away. And when the long grass rustled near, Beneath some hasting tread, He started up with a quivering ear,...
Strana 7 - The poet's or historian's page by one Made vocal for the amusement of the rest...
Strana 89 - Hauberk crash, and helmet ring. (Weave the crimson web of war) Let us go, and let us fly, Where our friends the conflict share, Where they triumph, where they die. As the paths of fate we tread, Wading through th' ensanguined field : Gondula, and Geira, spread O'er the youthful king your shield.
Strana 205 - 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 151 - When this, this little group their country calls From academic shades and learned halls, To fix her laws, her spirit to sustain, And light up glory through her wide domain ! Their various tastes in different arts displayed, Like tempered harmony of light and shade, With friendly union in one mass shall blend, And this adorn the State, and that defend.
Strana 204 - So there through the Summer's heat he lay, Till Autumn nights grew bleak, Till his eye grew dim with his hope's decay, And he pined, and pined, and wasted away, A skeleton gaunt and weak. And oft the pitying children brought Their offerings of meat and bread, And to coax him away to their homes they sought, But his buried master he ne'er forgot, Nor strayed from his lonely bed. Cold Winter came with an angry sway, And the snow lay deep and...

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