102.
102.
When the rosy dawn awakingPaints with gold the verdant lawn;Flies, on the wings of time disporting,Sip the sweets and taste the dawn.Warbling birds the day proclaiming,Singing sweet the lively strain;They forsake their leafy dwelling,To secure the golden grain.See; content the humble gleanerPicks the scattered ears that fall.Nature, all her children viewing,Kindly bounteous cares for all.
When the rosy dawn awakingPaints with gold the verdant lawn;Flies, on the wings of time disporting,Sip the sweets and taste the dawn.Warbling birds the day proclaiming,Singing sweet the lively strain;They forsake their leafy dwelling,To secure the golden grain.See; content the humble gleanerPicks the scattered ears that fall.Nature, all her children viewing,Kindly bounteous cares for all.
When the rosy dawn awaking
Paints with gold the verdant lawn;
Flies, on the wings of time disporting,
Sip the sweets and taste the dawn.
Warbling birds the day proclaiming,
Singing sweet the lively strain;
They forsake their leafy dwelling,
To secure the golden grain.
See; content the humble gleaner
Picks the scattered ears that fall.
Nature, all her children viewing,
Kindly bounteous cares for all.
103. Musk-melon, if your second is turned inside out; thus, lem-on.
104. Merry’s Museum.
105. “Now before you.â€
106. Pat-ten.
107 Because it is far fetched and full of nonsense.
108. Make an impression.
109.
Sweet are the roses that bloom by yon fountain,And sweet are the cowslips that spangle the grove,And sweet is the breeze that blows o’er the mountains;But sweeter by far is the lad that I love.I’ll weave a gay and fresh blooming garland,With lilies and roses,And sweet, blooming posies,To give to the lad my heart tells me I love.May the brow of the brave never want a wreath of laurel.
Sweet are the roses that bloom by yon fountain,And sweet are the cowslips that spangle the grove,And sweet is the breeze that blows o’er the mountains;But sweeter by far is the lad that I love.I’ll weave a gay and fresh blooming garland,With lilies and roses,And sweet, blooming posies,To give to the lad my heart tells me I love.May the brow of the brave never want a wreath of laurel.
Sweet are the roses that bloom by yon fountain,
And sweet are the cowslips that spangle the grove,
And sweet is the breeze that blows o’er the mountains;
But sweeter by far is the lad that I love.
I’ll weave a gay and fresh blooming garland,
With lilies and roses,
And sweet, blooming posies,
To give to the lad my heart tells me I love.
May the brow of the brave never want a wreath of laurel.
110. May the trees of liberty flourish round the globe, and every man partake of its fruit. May the wings of love never lose a feather.
111. Prescription—proscription.
112. Bar-gain.
113. 1,600 ÷ 32 = 50. 502× 16 = 40,000.
114. Tanner.
115. Because it makes aman go.
116. Hand-el.