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Image from page 436 of “Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world’s best literature for children” (1922)

Image from page 436 of “Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world’s best literature for children” (1922)
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Identifier: journeysthroughb01sylv
Title: Journeys through Bookland : a new and original plan for reading applied to the world’s best literature for children
Year: 1922 (1920s)
Authors: Sylvester, Charles Herbert
Subjects: Children’s literature
Publisher: Chicago : Bellows-Reeve
Contributing Library: Internet Archive
Digitizing Sponsor: Internet Archive

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
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Text Appearing Before Image:
ow THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death,And, with his sickle keen,He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,And the flowers that grow between. Shall I have naught that is fair? saith he; Have naught but the bearded grain?Though the breath of these flowers is sweet tome, I will give them all back again. The Reaper and juk Flowers 411 He gazed at the flowers witli tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves;It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves. My Lord has need of these flowerets gay, The Reaper said, and smiled;Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where He was onee a child. They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care.And saints, upon their garments white These sacred blossoms wear. And the mother gave, in tears and pain. The flowers she most did love;She knew she should find them all again In the fields of liffht above. O O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,The Reaper came that day; Twas an angel visited the green earth,And took the flowers awav.

Text Appearing After Image:
412 The Sands of Dee THE SANDS OF DEE By Charles Kingsley OMARY, go and call the cattle home,And call the cattle home,And call the cattle home.Across the sands of Dee!The western wind was wild and dank wi foam.And all alone went she. The western tide crept up along the sand,And oer and oer the sand,And round and round the sand,As far as eye could see.The rolling mist came down and hid the land—And never home came she. Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair—A tress o golden hair,A dro^iied maidens hairAbove the nets at sea?Was never salmon yet that shone so fairAmong the stakes on Dee. They rowd her in across the rolling foam.The cruel crawling foam.The cruel hungry foam,To her grave beside the sea;But still the boatmen hear her call the cattlehomeAcross the sands of Dee! Mercy to Animals 413 MERCY TO ANIMALS By William Cowper I WOULD not enter on my list of friends(Though graced with pohshed manners and finesense,Yet wanting sensibility) the manWho needlessly sets foot upon a

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