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afternoon asked asleep Aunt Harriet baby Billy Boy bird blue bread breakfast brook brought busy called candy carried child church clean close clothes coming corner Cousin covered cried dinner doll door dress eyes face father feel feet felt finger floor flowers front funny gave glass green hair hands hard head hear heard held helped hold kitchen knew lady leaves little brother little girl lived looked loved Maggie Mary milk morning mother never nice night Once opened penny pick play pretty reached sang shoes shut side sing soldiers stand steps stone stood street Sunday swing talked teacher tell things thought told took tree tried turned Uncle walked wanted watch window
Seite 83 - BILLY BOY. Oh, where have you been, Billy boy, Billy boy? Oh, where have you been, charming Billy? I have been to seek a wife, She's the joy of my life; She's a young thing and cannot leave her mother.
Seite 85 - THE BROOK-SIDE. I WANDERED by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill,— I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still ; There was no burr of grasshopper, No chirp of any bird, But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard.
Seite 84 - She's a young thing and cannot leave her mother. Can she make a cherry pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy? Can she make a cherry pie, charming Billy? She can make a cherry pie, quick as a cat can wink her eye. She's a young thing and cannot leave her mother.
Seite 86 - But the beating of my own heart Was all the sound I heard. He came not — no, he came not! The night came on alone, The...
Seite 84 - How old is she, Billy Boy, Billy Boy, How old is she, Charming Billy? She's three times six, four times seven, twenty-eight and eleven; she's a young thing and cannot leave her mother.
Seite 84 - Did she set for you a chair, Billy Boy, Billy Boy, Did she set for you a chair, charming Billy?" "Yes, she set for me a chair, She has ringlets in her hair, She's a young thing, and cannot leave her mother.
Seite 118 - WHEN I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes.
Seite 19 - THE hours I spent with thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls to me; I count them over, every one apart, My rosary. Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer, To still a heart in absence wrung; I tell each bead unto the end and there A cross is hung.