Comments about Mary Howitt

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Matt_Greenwings: Daydreaming of freedom... Oh, the white seagull, the wild seagull, A joyful bird is he, As he lies like a cradled thing at rest In the arms of a sunny sea! (C) Mary Howitt

Greedalitism365: The Spider and the Fly is a poem by Mary Howitt (1799-1888), published in 1828. The first line of poem is "'Will you walk into my parlor?' said Spider to the Fly." Story tells of a cunning spider who entraps a fly into its web through the use of seduction and manipulation.

MelanieJaxn: Buttercups and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers; Coming ere the spring time, To tell of sunny hours. When the trees are leafless; When the fields are bare; Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there. - Mary Howitt

carylloper: For visions come not to polluted eyes ~ Mary Howitt

PatrickTineo24: The Spider And The Fly

FamFriendPoems: The Spider And The Fly

HallUttoxeter: Another great event at Redfern Cottage, with Mary Howitt performing poetry. Why not pop in...... Sat 14 March, 10am

MelanieJaxn: "Buttercups and daisies, Oh, the pretty flowers; Coming ere the spring time, To tell of sunny hours. When the trees are leafless; When the fields are bare; Buttercups and daisies Spring up here and there." - Mary Howitt

naesbjerg: The Oak-Tree by Mary Howitt (1799 –1888) Sing for the Oak-Tree, The monarch of the wood: Sing for the Oak-Tree, That groweth green and good; That groweth broad and branching Within the forest shade; That groweth now, and yet shall grow When we are lowly laid!

Mhdude1Mhdude1: The Spider and the Fly is a poem by Mary Howitt The first line of the poem is "'Will you walk into my parlour?' said the Spider to the Fly." The story tells of a cunning spider who entraps a fly into its web through the use of seduction and manipulation. Bernie Sanders communism!

Dj_Tchi: Yo Mary Howitt in The Spider and The Fly got got

RudheathPrimary: Year 5 have been editing their descriptive writing today. We described a scene from our story ‘The Spider and The Fly’ by Mary Howitt.

Hannah_RoseM: Visited Newstead Abbey for a morning dog walk and came across the statue of William and Mary Howitt. Frederick Douglass stayed with the couple while in London in 1846.

donnamariamoses: He is happiest who hath power to gather wisdom from a flower.-- Mary Howitt

irldom: we have no choice but to stan Mary

TheLadyHenry: I knew this poem by heart when I was little. It was my *absolute* favourite ♥️ My mom read it from an old beatup book that she had had since she was a kid.

SmicklShaun: Yes this from, The Botany of Worcestershire or The Distribution of Indigenous & Naturalized Plants of that County.Edwin Lees 1867. The quote is by Mary Howitt, better known for her poem The spider and the fly.

AldoRamos: The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt and illustrated by Tony Diterlizzi

walk_hackney: Revolutionaries, Radicals and Literati. LOWER CLAPTON HISTORY WALK Sat 11/1 11am

goodsitebadsite: Mary Howitt quotes and quotations

coachmohan4: For visions come not to polluted eyes. Mary Howitt

carylloper: For visions come not to polluted eyes ~ Mary Howitt

cinemaxwell: “Oh, the white seagull, the wild seagull, A joyful bird is he, As he lies like a cradled thing at rest In the arms of a sunny sea!” - Mary Howitt

StephenBaines2: Famous cricket players of the 19th century in a poem "A Poetical Letter" in a book for 'the Young' called "Tales in Verse" by Mary Howitt 1836.

NgvThing: Edith Mary Howitt (c. 1860) Georgiana McCRAE

jakeyapp: Tonight Spider said loud and clear that the idea we shouldn't walk into his parlour is ridiculous. Mary Howitt should stop her desperate poetrymongering.

MrsvlPioneers: "'Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly. Asst. Superintendent Mrs. Frye reads Mary Howitt's cautionary tale of The Spider and the Fly to second graders at Neil Armstrong Elementary.

HippiesHart: The Spider and the Fly by Mary Howitt and illustrated by Tony Diterlizzi

Mortis_grey: 13 days of Halloween ~day 2~ The Spider and the Fly (by Mary Howitt)

Poem of the day

Ebb Tide
 by Sara Teasdale

When the long day goes by
And I do not see your face,
The old wild, restless sorrow
Steals from its hiding place.

My day is barren and broken,
Bereft of light and song,
A sea beach bleak and windy
...

Read complete poem

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