Boekgegevens
Titel: First English reading book: Engelsch leesboek voor instituten, gymnasiën en hoogere burgerscholen: met Nederlandsche woordenlijst
Auteur: Herrig, Ludwig
Uitgave: Arnhem: J. Voltelen, 1869 *
Auteursrechten: Zie auteursrechten
Citeerinstructie: Bijzondere Collecties van de Universiteit van Amsterdam, UBM: IWO 513 H 21
URL: https://schoolmuseum.uba.uva.nl/bookid/LCSM_204683
Onderwerp: Taal- en letterkunde naar afzonderlijke talen: Engelse taalkunde
Trefwoord: Leesvaardigheid, Engels, Leermiddelen (vorm)
* jaar van uitgave niet op de gebruikelijke wijze verkregen, mogelijk betreft het een schatting
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in
fell into their hands. He was not even
allowed to lay his poor mother in the silent
grave; he kissed the clay-cold bosom on
which he bad hung in infancy, and, with
stern serenity, yielded himself a prisoner.
He loved his country, and would not have
shrunk from its service in the hour of
batHe; but at such a moment to be forced
away, it was draining the cup of misery
to the very dregs.
He was a good seaman, but he, unfor-
tunately, fell into the hands of a cruel and
even brutal captain, who treated his silent
grief with insult. (This captain was after-
wards dismissed the navy for cruelty.) The
poor fellow was treated with every indignity,
and compelled to perform most of the me-
nial offices of his station. It was a truly
happy change for him when his services
in this ship ended, and he entered another
where his sufferings met with commiseration,
and his meritorious conduct and abihty, as
a seaman, were duly rewarded by a kind
and gentlemanly captain. I have not since
fallen in with him; but I have no doubt,
from what I saw of him, that his general
good conduct gained him friends, and that
he has probably, since the close of the war,
again entered the merchant service, in
which it is very possible he may have the
command of a ship.
m. OUR HOME IS THE OCEAN.
Our home is the ocean,
Our grave is the deep;
We feel no emotion
As on it we sleep;
The waves are our pillow,
Our cradle the sea,
The rougher the billow,
The happier we.
Our home is the ocean,
A mariner's boast.
With waves in wild motion
We love it the most.
And 'tis our endeavour,
In battle and breeze,
That England shall ever
Be lord of the seas.
102. TO MY SAILOR BOY.
When sailing on the ocean.
In foreign climes you roam,
Oh, think with fond emotion
Upon your distant home;
And never strive to smother,
But treasure up with joy
Remembrance of a mother,
Who loves her Sailor Boy.
When thunders loud are roaring.
And vivid lightning flies,
The rain in torrents pouring.
Sleep will depart my eyes;
Tears will bedew my pillow.
You all my thoughts employ
Toss'd on the angry billow,
A httle Sailor Boy.
Kind Providence protect you,
And bring you back again;
Your mother will expect you
Safe from the troubled main.
No, Heav'n will not distress me,
The widow's hope destroy;
Return once more to bless me.
My little Sailor Boy.
103. THE SEASONS.
When Spring comes with suns and showers,
What gives beauty to the bowers?
Buds and flowers.
When tbe glowing Summer's born,
What pours Nature from her horn?
Hay and corn.
When mild suns in Autumn shine,
Then, 0 Earth, what gifts are thine?
Fruit and wine.
When gray Winter comes, what glow-
Makes the round earth sparkle so?
Ice and snow.
Hay and corn and buds and flowers,
Snow and ice and fruit and wine;
Spring and Summer, Fall and Winter,
With their suns and sleets and showers,
Bring in turn these gifts divine.
Spring blows. Summer glows,
Autumn reaps, Winter keeps.
Spring prepares, Summer provides.
Autumn hoards, Winter hides.
Gome, then, friends, their praises sound;
Spring and Summer, Autumn, Winter,
Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring,
As they run their yearly round,
Each in turn with gladness sing!
Time drops blessings as he flies,
Time makes ripe, and Time makes wise.
(Schottel.)