File:Forrester's pictorial miscellany for the family circle (1855) (14729585596).jpg

Identifier: forresterspictor00forr (find matches)
Title: Forrester's pictorial miscellany for the family circle
Year: 1855 (1850s)
Authors: Forrester, Mark, ed Forrester, Mark
Subjects: Juvenile literature (American) Natural history Indians of North America -- West (U.S.) Aztec children
Publisher: Boston, F. & G.C. Rand

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helabor that had piled them upon each other marvellous ; but wereached the bottom in safety, in one twentieth part of the time ithad taken us to ascend. The pyramids are not perfectly solid, but contain numerous gal-leries and chambers, which have often been explored. Some of thelarge stones of which I have spoken were used in constructing thesechambers, and they are often worked as smooth and as true as thebest marble. The original use and object of these imperishable structures hasnever been discovered; but they are supposed to have been con-nected in some way with the religion of the ancient Egyptians, andemployed as tombs and temples. Many bodies, embalmed, havebeen found in them, and the coffins covered over with hieroglyphics.The pyramids, from some recent discoveries which have been madein deciphering these characters, are supposed to have been builtabout eighteen hundred years before our Saviour came upon theearth, though some of them are, doubtless, much more ancient. SPRING.
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BY MARKS BROTHER. IT is May, and the farmer, with studious care, Is toiling the fruitful earth to prepare, By turning the turf with the shining share, Ere he scatters the seed on the plain ;The soft shower falls on the thirsty field,And the warm sun forces the earth to yield A harvest of golden grain. 92 PICTORIAL MISCELLANY. How cheerful the farmer! — do you mark that smile,That lights up his honest face 1 MeanwhileHe is humming an air the hours to beguile, While breaking the bright green sward ;No fears are filling his quiet heart,For he trusts in God, if he does his part, That his labor shall reap its reward. He knows right well who it is who said, Who tilleth the soil shall not want bread,While light oer the earth by the sun is shed, Rich plenty shall fill his store :When winter has come with chilling blast,All sorrow away from his home is cast, And the poor are not turned from his door. It is May, and the green young leaf is unrolled,The sweet-scented blossoms their beauties un

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