Heroes and Greathearts and Their Animal Friends

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Fairfax Publishing Company, 1908 - Animal welfare - 289 pages

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Page 185 - They are slaves who fear to speak For the fallen and the weak ; They are slaves who will not choose Hatred, scoffing, and abuse, Rather than in silence shrink From the truth they needs must think ; They are slaves who dare not be In the right with two or three.
Page 92 - BLESSINGS on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes ; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace ; From my heart I give thee joy, — I was once a barefoot boy ! Prince thou art, — the grown-up man Only is republican.
Page 280 - May the great God whom I worship, grant to my country, and for the benefit of Europe in general, a great and glorious victory, and may no misconduct in any one tarnish it, and may humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British fleet!
Page 105 - I'll tell thee. He is called by thy name, For He calls himself a Lamb; He is meek and He is mild, He became a little child. I a child and thou a lamb, We are called by His name, Little lamb, God bless thee!
Page 167 - Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight! There as the mother sits all day Robert is singing with all his might Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about. Chee, chee, chee.
Page 166 - MERRILY swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink ; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers. Chee, chee, chee.
Page 92 - Knowledge (never learned of schools) Of the wild bee's morning chase, Of the wild flower's time and place, Flight of fowl, and habitude Of the tenants of the wood ; How the tortoise bears his shell, How the woodchuck digs his cell, And the groundmole sinks his well ; How the robin feeds her young, How the oriole's nest is hung...
Page 162 - Such an old mustache as I am Is not a match for you all ! I have you fast in my fortress, And will not let you depart, But put you down into the dungeon In the round-tower of my heart.
Page 93 - When all things I heard or saw, Me, their master, waited for. I was rich in flowers and trees, Humming-birds and honey-bees; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade; For my taste the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone; Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night...
Page 268 - WHENE'ER a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.

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