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The Baldwin Library
LITTLE IREAD US.
"OURFATR WHO ART IN
GREAT OD, and wilt t cone
To be my Father ar my friend? I, a- poor child, and th so high, The Low. of earth, and air, and sky!
Art thou my FatherP Canst thou bear To hear my poor, imperfect prayer? Or, stop to listen to the praise, That such a little one can raise ?
Art thou my FatherP let me be, ~meek, obedient child to thee: And try, in word, and deed, arid thought To serve and please thee as I ought.
Art thou ak F other ?-011 depend, ,Upon the care Of such a friend; 'And only vdish to do and be, Whatever seemeth'good to thee.
Art thbu my Father ?-then at last, When all my days on earthare Past, Send down, and take me, in thy love, To be thy better child above.
THE LINNET'S NEST.
MY Liinet's Rest, Miss, will you buy ? They're nearly fledg'd-Ah no, not II'll not encourage wicked boys To rob a parent of its joys; Those darling joys, to feed itsyoung, To see them grow up brisk and strong.
With care the tender brood to nourish, And see them plume, arid perch and flouril,:
To hear them chirp, to hear them sing, To see then try-the little wing, To view them chanting on the tree The charringeong of liberty.
I do not 14i446 see them mope With"in ed I& of hope,
And al I the joys that freedom gives: The phtne6s sonnet a grieves.
I love their so",yet giVe to me, The gserful note that sings. "I'm free!
THlE dk, forgrne, stegh andno
Excels all, trees thatin the foetgrow; Fromn acorns smalll, that. trA ths
To which such signal benefits we -oe.
Behold what shelter in its ml sae From noontide sun,1 ro from the drencip in& roan
'And of its timber, staunch, vast ships are
To sweep rich cargoes 'er the watry main.
#DOW in a green and shady bed
ij A modest violet grew; 'Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.
And yet it was a lovely flower, Its colours bright end fair; It might have gracd arosy bower,
Instead of hiding tbiei'
And theeiOo''4*tp ue
That Imy lo er to iov,
THE CRUEL THOV.
A BITof wool sticks here upon this thorn
Ah, cruel thorn, to tear it from the
And yet, perhaps, with pain its fleece was
Its coat so thick, a hot and cumb'rous
The wool a little bird takes in his bill,
And with it ups to yonder tree he Ries: A nest hti's buil4ing.thr wihatckhoss
Compact and close, that cold and rain'
To line thatns~h-O0 so&f ~ m
And when thby'reliatch'4, tha wol will
The callow brood, utti te're fldg'd
Thu birds find us~e for what the sheet can
In Oi iny childra wholesomne moral spy, And when the poor shall crave, ty plenty
Let hy abundance thus their wants supply.
THE WAY TO BE HAPPY.
NHOW pleasant it is, at the end of the day,
No follies to have to repent;
Sut reflect on the past, and be able to say, That my time ha been properly spent.
When Ive dont all my business with patience and care,
And been good, and obliging, and kind; I lay ou my pillow, and sleep away there,
With a happy and peaceable mind.
But instead of all this, if it must be confest,
That I careless and idle have been; I lay down as usual and go to my rest,
UIft feel disoonteated within.
Then, as I don't like all the trouble I've
In future I'1 try to prevent it
For I never m nauty w ut
Or good-without bein con.te...
DARK and dismal is the night,
Beating rain and wind so high; Close the window shutters tight,
And the cheerful fire come nigh.
Hear the blast in dreadful chorus,
Rearing through the naked trees, Much like thunder, bursting o'er us,
Now they murmur, now they cease.
'Think how many o'er the wild,
Wander in this dreadful weather; Some poor mother with hir child,
Scarce can keep her rags together.
Or, a wretched family,
2Neath some, mud-wqallIdru*ind shed, Shrugging close together) On the earth-teir ,only bd.
While we Sit within so war,
Shelter'd, comfortable, safe; Think how wany 'bide the storm,
Who no home or shelter have.
Sad their lot is, wretched creatures !
How much better off are we; Discontent, then, on our features,
Surely never ought to be.
THE TILLAGE, GR~EEN.
ON the dieerful Village Green,
Scattered round with houses neat, There the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with busy feet.
Now we see them, hand in hand,
Making many a merry chain; Next behold the little band,
Marching o'er the level plain.
Then ascends the worsted ball,
High it rises in the air; Or against the cottage wall, Up and down it ounces there. Or th hoop,, w i evn 6,
For,, amn th ihad o
Fim, ad gan, and de~di laces, None ap r more than they,
With happier hearts, or happier face
Then, contented with my state, Let me envy not the great ; Since snch pleasures may be seen, On a cheerful Village Green.
About God, who made the Sun and Moon
I SAW the glorious sun arise,
From yonder mountain gray;
And as he travelPld through the skies,
The darkness fled away:
And all around me was so bright, I wished it would be always light.
ut, whent his course waT(tdone, The gentle Moor drew i,
nd stars came twinkling, one by one, Upon the shd skyho made the Sun to shine so far,
he Moon, and e twinkling Star?
'Twas GrOD, miy child', who madethem~ all
He holds them, that they do net fall,
And bids them move or stand: That glorious Gotd who lives afar, In heaven beyond the highest sr.
How very great that od ustbe,
Who rollsthemthrough the air!
Too high, mamma, to notice me,
Or listen to my prayer!
I fear, he will not condescend, To be a little infant's fried.
0, yes, my love; for though he made
Those wonders in the sky, You never need to be afraid,
He should neglect your cry; For, humble as the child may be, A praying child he loves to see.
Behold the daisy where we tread,
That useless little thing! Behold the insects overhead,
That gambol in the spring: His goodness bids the daisy rise, And ev'ry insect's wants supplies.
nd will he not descend to make
A feeble child his care?
es Jesus died for children ssa e And loves the youngest rayer. od made the and daises too, ad watches over them and you.
For a Child, who has ry ht.
LORD, I confesseforethy fc,
How naughty I hwe been;
Look' down from lea thy dwelling
And pardon this my sin.
Forgive my temper, Lord, I pray,
My passions and my pride,
The wicked words I dar'd to say; And wicked thoughts beside.
I cannot lay me down to rest
In quiet on my bed,
Until, with shame I have confest,
The naughty things I said.
The SAvirev answered not again,
Nor spoke an angry word, To all thecoffs of wicked men,
Although he was their ILrd!
And, who am I, a sinful child,
Such angry words to say?
Make me as mild as he was mild,
And take my pride away.
For Jesus' sake, forgive my crime,
And change this stubborn heart; And grant me grace, another time,
To act a better part.
THE LILY OF TOE VALLEY*
CONE, my loeand do not spurn From a little fw to )earn. See the lily on thei .bd Hanging down its modest h Whilst it scarcely e sen Folded in its leaf 0 green.
Yet we love the lily well, For its sweet and pleasant smell, And would rather call it ours, Than a many gayer flowers'; Pretty lilies seem to be Emblems of humility.
Come, my love, nid do not spurn From a little flower to lear: Let thy temper be as sweet, As the lilyat thy feet: Be as gentl.I~ be as mild; ]e a modest, humble child.
'Tis not beauty that we prizeLike a summer flower it dies; But humility will -last, Fairand sweet when beauty's past; And the SAvioIrn from above, Views an humble child with love.
THE CHILD OF AFFLUENCE.
HOW many poor indigent children Isee, Who want all the comforts bestowed upon
But though I'm preserved from such want
I'm quite as unworthy of all I po sess.
While I am partaking a plentiful mea, How many the cravings of npetite feel!
Poor children,as young and as helpless as I Who yet have no money their wants to
If I were so destitute, friendless, and poor, How could I4 s hardship and suffering
Then lote be thankfulid humbly
My God, who has gracious@ given me
And, since I with so many comforts am
M[ay it be my delight to relieve the distrest: For God has declared, and his promise is
That blessed are they that consider the
THE CHILD OF POVERTY.
LORD 1 am poor, ye bear my call Afford me 4aily bread; Give me at least the crumbs that fall,
From tables iohly spread.
Thou canst for all my wants provide,
And bless my homely crust:
The ravens cry, and are supply'd,
And ought not I to trust P
Jieholil the lilies, how they grow,
Though they can nothing do;,
And will not Uodl, who clothes them so,
Afford me rainment too?
lint seeing, L#ord, thou dost withhold
The riches some possess,
Grant me, what better is than gold,,
Thy grace and righteousness.
0, may I heavenly treasure find,
And choose the better part; Give me an bumble, pious mind,
A meek and, lowly. heart*
Forgive my sins, my follies cure,
And grant the grace I need;
And then, though Ilam mean and poor,
I shall be rich indeed.