Whenever children are interested in any selection, it is well to encourage them to commit it to memory, if it be brief, or if they find in it phrases or sentences which seem to them beautiful or filled with meaning. If, however, the young people are driven to memorizing selections of any kind, the practice is of little value, and it is likely to create a prejudice against the very things for which they should feel admiration. By a show of interest, however, the parents may, without difficulty, lead the children to learn a great deal of the best literature, and thus not only strengthen their knowledge but improve their style of writing as well, for unconsciously the young will follow the style of those whom they admire. Moreover, it frequently happens that some of the inspiring thoughts which children have learned become rules of action to them in after life. If the practice is begun early enough children will form the habit of learning those things which they like, and such a habit is of greatest value. In many schools, during certain years, the learning of “memory gems” is a daily practice; it should be no less a practice at home.
Some of the many things in these books which may well be learned in their entirety are the following:
| Volume I, | page 66. | A Thought. |
| Volume I, | page 67. | The Swing. |
| Volume I, | page 83. | Singing. |
| Volume I, | page 110. | Rain. |
| Volume I, | page 133. | Little Blue Pigeon. |
| Volume I, | page 144. | The Land of Counterpane. |
| Volume I, | page 204. | Sleep, Baby, Sleep. |
| Volume I, | page 246. | Norse Lullaby. |
| Volume I, | page 262. | Wynken, Blynken and Nod. |
| Volume I, | page 339. | The Owl and the Pussy Cat. |
| Volume I, | page 340. | Time to Rise. |
| Volume I, | page 410. | The Reaper and the Flowers. |
| Volume II, | page 11. | The Baby. |
| Volume II, | page 32. | Lullaby. |
| Volume II, | page 123. | Windy Nights. |
| Volume II, | page 121. | Shuffle-Shoon and Amber-Locks. |
| Volume II, | page 87. | Picture Books in Winter. |
| Volume II, | page 119. | Seven Times One. |
| Volume II, | page 403. | The First Snowfall. |
| Volume II, | page 481. | In Time’s Swing. |
| Volume III, | page 347. | Barbara Frietchie. |
| Volume IV, | page 82. | Footsteps of Angels. |
| Volume IV, | page 126. | Nearer Home. |
| Volume IV, | page 127. | Pictures of Memory. |
| Volume V, | page 396. | The American Flag. |
| Volume V, | page 399. | Battle Hymn of the Republic. |
| Volume VI, | page 119. | Annie Laurie. |
| Volume VI, | page 122. | Sweet and Low. |
| Volume VI, | page 133. | The Bugle Song. |
| Volume VII, | page 1. | The Daffodils. |
| Volume VII, | page 4. | To the Fringed Gentian. |
| Volume VII, | page 340. | Those Evening Bells. |
| Volume VII, | page 395. | To a Waterfowl. |
While usually it is better to allow each person to learn the lines that most appeal to him, yet some help should be given children. No two people will select all of the same things, though probably all would agree on some few things as being of the highest excellence. Some lines should be learned because of their beauty in description, others because of beauty in phraseology, and still others because of beauty in sentiment. Search should be made, too, for those things which are inspirational, and which will be strong aids in the building of character.
We append a few pages of quotations taken at random from the volumes. They will prove handy when the parent or teacher is pressed for time, and the references to volume and page will enable the busy person readily to find the context, if that seems desirable.
The quotations below are arranged in the order of their appearance in Journeys Through Bookland. This will enable anyone to locate them easily. The lines cover a wide range of thought and will furnish an endless variety of material for stories, comment, question and conversation. Some of them cannot be appreciated without a knowledge of their setting in the original poem or prose selection, while others are complete and perfect as they stand.One of the best ways to teach a poem or selection is to begin by creating an interest in a quotation from it. For instance, “Write me as one who loves his fellow men,” will lead the way to an acquaintance with the old favorite Abou Ben Adhem. In fact, only after the poem has been read and appreciated will a person get the full force of the idea, “Write me as one who loves his fellow men.”
One Hundred Choice Quotations
(Volume I)
Early to bed, and early to rise,
Is the way to be healthy, wealthy and wise.
Had it not been for your buzz I should not even have known you were there.
The Rock-a-by Lady from Hushaby street,
With poppies that hang from her head to her feet.
I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky’s blue looking-glass.
In through the window a moonbeam comes,
Little gold moonbeam with misty wings.
Oh, the world’s running over with joy.
The honorable gentleman has not told us who is to hang the bell around the Cat’s neck.
Here is the mill with the humming of thunder,
Here is the weir with the wonder of foam,
Here is the sluice with the race running under—
Marvelous places, though handy to home.
Then she smooths the eyelids down
Over those two eyes of brown—
In such soothing, tender wise
Cometh Lady Button-Eyes.
One must be content with the good one has enjoyed.
Oh, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
’Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.
It matters nothing if one is born in a duck yard, if one can only be hatched from a swan’s egg.
(Volume II)
Did you ever hear of a bird in a cage, that promised to stay in it?
The very violets in their bed
Fold up their eyelids blue.
Rejoice in thy youth, rejoice in thy fresh growth, and in the young life that is within thee.
You are more than the Earth, though you are such a dot—
You can love and think, and the Earth cannot.
Thank him for his lesson’s sake,
Thank God’s gentle minstrel there,
Who, when storms make others quake,
Sings of days that brighter were. You must expect to be beat a few times in your life, little man, if you live such a life as a man ought to live.
Those that wish to be clean, clean they will be.
Reckon not on your chickens before they are hatched.
He saw the rocks of the mountain tops all crimson and purple with the sunset; and there were bright tongues of fiery cloud burning and quivering about them; and the river, brighter than all, fell, in a wavering column of pure gold, from precipice to precipice, with the double arch of a broad purple rainbow stretched across it, flushing and fading alternately in the wreaths of spray.
(Volume III)
In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss.
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law.
Lips where smiles went out and in.
All the little boys and girls,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls.
(Volume IV)
Prince thou art,—the grown up man
Only is republican.
O’er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold.
Now in memory comes my mother,
As she was long years agone,
To regard the darling dreamers
Ere she left them till the dawn.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes may be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.
And when the arrows of sunset
Lodged in the tree-tops bright,
He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
Asleep by the gates of light.
Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent,
Or aught thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught thy goodness lent.
And there through the flash of the morning light,
A steed as black as the steeds of night,
Was seen to pass as with eagle flight.
Noiselessly as the springtime
Her crown of verdure weaves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves.
Who dies in youth and vigor, dies the best,
Struck through with wounds, all honest, on the breast.
(Volume V)
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path, but now
Lead thou me on;
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
the knotted column of his throat,
The massive square of his heroic breast,
And arms on which the standing muscle sloped,
As slopes a wild brook o’er a little stone,
Running too vehemently to break it.
Ye think the rustic cackle of your bourg
The murmur of the world!
For man is man and master of his fate.
Perseverance gains its meed
And Patience wins the race.
Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom’s soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom’s banner streaming o’er us?
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat;
O, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
Silence! ground arms! kneel all! caps off!
“Old Blue-Light’s” going to pray.
Strangle the foe that dares to scoff!
Attention! It’s his way.
(Volume VI)
To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods.
When by my bed I saw my mother kneel,
And with her blessing took her nightly kiss;
Whatever Time destroys, he cannot this;—
E’en now that nameless kiss I feel.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea;
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sublime words make not a man holy and righteous, but it is a virtuous life that maketh him dear to God.
Who hath a stronger battle than he that useth force to overcome himself? This should be our occupation, to overcome ourselves and every day to be stronger and somewhat holier.
And the sheen on their spears was like stars on the sea,
Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people and thy God my God.
For we are all, like swimmers in the sea,
Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate,
Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall.
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.
“God bless us every one!” said Tiny Tim.
All hail’d, with uncontroll’d delight
And general voice, the happy night,
That to the cottage, as the crown,
Brought tidings of Salvation down.
The short and simple annals of the poor.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.
Along the cool, sequestered vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
He gained from Heaven (’twas all he wished) a friend.
Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears; while the used key is always bright.
He that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night; while laziness travels so slowly that poverty soon overtakes him.
Have you somewhat to do tomorrow? Do it today. For want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe the horse was lost; and for want of a horse the rider was lost.
Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a great ship.
’Tis foolish to lay out money in the purchase of repentance.
Fools make feasts and wise men eat them.
’Tis hard for an empty bag to stand upright!
Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other.
(Volume VII)
That inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude.
Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye
Look through its fringes to the sky.
The bonny lark, companion meet,
Bending thee ‘mang the dewy weet
Wi’ spreckled breast,
When upward springing, blithe to greet
The purpling east.
He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small.
The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,
The man’s the gowd for a’ that!
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
The remarkably adult yet innocent expression of their open and serene eyes is very memorable. All intelligence seems reflected in them. They suggest not merely the purity of infancy, but a wisdom clarified by experience. Such an eye was not born when the bird was, but is coeval with the sky it reflects. The woods do not yield such another gem.
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Imagine a stream seventy yards broad divided by a pebbly island, running over seductive riffles and swirling into deep, quiet pools where the good salmon goes to smoke his pipe after his meals.
I once had a sparrow alight on my shoulder for a moment while I was hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by that circumstance than I should have been by any epaulet I could have worn.
And while in life’s late afternoon
Where cool and long the shadows grow,
I walk to meet the night that soon
Shall shape and darkness overflow,
I cannot feel that thou art far,
Since near at hand the angels are;
And when the sunset gates unbar,
Shall I not see thee waiting stand,
And, white against the evening star,
The welcome of thy beckoning hand?
He who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
Will lead my steps aright.
(Volume VIII)
Go tell the Spartans, thou that passeth by,
That here, obedient to their laws, we lie.
Thermopylae had her messenger of defeat:
The Alamo had none.
England expects every man to do his duty.
An’ Oh! be sure to fear the Lord alway!
An’ mind your duty, duly, morn and night!
They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright.
The best acid is assiduity.
(Volume IX)
Write me as one who loves his fellow men.
When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.
Cowards die many times before their deaths;
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Et tu Brute! Then fall, CÆsar.
Surely man is but a shadow, and life a dream.
All service ranks the same with God.
The year’s at the spring,
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hillside’s dew-pearled:
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn;
God’s in his heaven—
All’s right with the world.
For what are the voices of birds—
Ay, and of beasts—but words, our words,
Only so much more sweet?
I will pass each, and see their happiness,
And envy none—being just as great, no doubt,
Useful to men, dear to God as they!
