• TABLE OF CONTENTS
HIDE
 Front Cover
 Frontispiece
 Title Page
 Copyright
 Main
 Index of First Lines
 Index of Subjects
 Back Cover
 Spine






Title: Songs for the little ones at home
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00002153/00001
 Material Information
Title: Songs for the little ones at home
Physical Description: 288 p. : ill. ; 17 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Annin, Phineas F ( Engraver )
Childs, Benjamin F., 1814-1863 ( Engraver )
Howland, William ( Engraver )
Kinnersley, Augustus F., b. ca. 1822 ( Engraver )
Whitney, Elias James, b. 1827 ( Engraver )
American Tract Society ( Publisher )
Publisher: American Tract Society
Place of Publication: New-York
Publication Date: c1852
 Subjects
Subject: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1852   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1852   ( rbbin )
Bldn -- 1852
Genre: Children's poetry.   ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
Pictorial cloth bindings (Binding)   ( rbbin )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- New York -- New York
 Notes
General Note: Index of first lines: p.<273>-280, index of subjects: p.<281>-288.
General Note: Without music.
General Note: Some ill. engraved and signed by P. Annin (p.33,35,171,189,193), Childs (p.196), W. Howland (p.151), A. Kinnersly (t.p.), and Whitney (p.75).
General Note: Engraved t.p.
General Note: Baldwin Library c.2 has embossed cloth binding.
Funding: Brittle Books Program
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00002153
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002237731
oclc - 45891754
notis - ALH8223
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front page 1
        Front page 2
        Front page 3
    Frontispiece
        Front page 4
    Title Page
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
    Copyright
        Page 6
    Main
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    Index of First Lines
        Page 273
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    Index of Subjects
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    Back Cover
        Page 290
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    Spine
        Page 292
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"What would our pusn say,
If she could only talk ?" Page 68.


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Regard for the interests of little readers
throughout the country, has induced the own-
ers of copy-rights to allow the insertion of sev-
eral favorite songs in this collection. Those
from "Hastings' Nursery Songs," published by
M. W. Dodd, New York, are in that work set
to music for the young.


I 1*


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Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by MART
O. WARD, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern
District of New York.

Right of publhhing tranAerred to the Amercan Tract Society


I




















FOR


Le little (es at nOe.

WELCOME.
WELCOME, welcome, little stranger,
To this busy world of care;
Nothing can thy peace endanger,
Nothing now thy steps ensnare.
Mother's heart is filled with pleasure,
All her feelings are awake;
Gladly would she, little treasure,
All thy pains and sufferings take.


SU Hs





I I


8 SONGS FOR THE

Mayest thou, if designed by heaven
Future days and years to see,
Soothe her, make her passage even;
Let her heart rejoice in thee.
May her anxious cares and labors
Be repaid by filial love;
And thy soul be crowned with favors
From the boundless source above.
Taylor.

IfABY, SLEEP.
Sleep, baby, sleep,
No longer weep;
Near thee sits thy little brother,
Close beside thee is thy mother:
Sleep, baby, sleep.
Sleep, baby, sleep,
No longer weep;
Israel's Shepherd watches o'er thee,
No rude danger lies before thee:
Sleep, baby, sleep.
Sleep, baby, sleep,
No longer weep;
Germ of beauty, bud and blossom,
Rest upon thy Saviour's bosom:
Sleep, baby, sleep.





LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 9

Sleep, baby, sleep,
No longer weep;
Life has many a raging billow-
Rest upon thy downy pillow:
Sleep, baby, sleep.
Hasting;' "Nursery Songs."

HUSHABY.

Hushaby, hushaby,
Baby, do not weep;
On thy downy pillow lie,
Softly, softly sleep.
Hushaby, hushaby,
Now thine eyelids close;
While thy mother sitting by,
Watches thy repose.

Hushaby, hushaby,
Think of no alarm;
Angel spirits round thee fly,
Guarding thee from harm.

Hushaby, hushaby,
Slumber sweet be given;
On thy downy pillow lie,
Precious gift from heaven.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs.


I







10 SONGS FOR THE


BABY.
"What is this pretty little thing,
That nurse so carefully doth bring,
And round its head a blanket fling?
A baby I
"Oh dear, how very soft its cheek;
Why nurse, I cannot make it speak,
And it can't walk, it is so weak.
A baby I
"Oh, I'm afraid that it will die;
Why can't it eat as well as I,
And jump, and talk? Do let it try.
Poor baby "


I


10


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


"Why, you were once a baby too,
And could not jump as now you do,
But good mamma took care of you,
Like baby.

"And then she taught your little feet,
To pat along the carpet neat,
And called papa to come and meet
His baby.

"0, dear mamma, to take such care,
And no kind pains and trouble spare
To feed and nurse you when you were
A baby."
Taylor.


OH, HARK! THE BABY CRIES.

Oh, hark! Oh, hark! the baby cries,
As on his little bed he lies:
He looks around, and mother's gone,
And he don't like to be alone.
But mother is coming,
Oh see how she's running,
To learn what the matter can be;
But she soon will find out
What it is all about;
And how very sorry is she.
--


I


11






SONGS FOR THE


My little babe must never fret,
And put himself in such a pet;
But play with his fingers and his toes,
And lie very still when mother goes.
Now sister is coming,
I hear her running
To see what the matter can be;
She has heard the loud cries,
And away how she flies,
For a dear loving sister is she.

Our little boy must never fret,
And put himself in such a pet,
But give us kisses, one, two, three:
Here, come! I'll take you on my knee.
Now see your dear mother,
And sister and brother,
Who always are loving and true;
And when they're away,
Lie still, laugh, and play,
They'll soon come again back to you.


I AA




j -;


12







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


MY LITTLE BROTHER.


Little brother, darling boy,
You are very dear to me;
I am happy-full of joy,
When your smiling face I see.

How r wish that you could speak,
And could know the words I say;
Pretty stories I would seek,
To amuse you every day:
8ongs. 9


I


13







14 SONGS FOR THE


All about the honey-bees,
Flying past us in the sun;
Birds that sing among the trees,
Lambs that in the meadows run.

S'll be very kind to you,
Never strike or make you cry,
As some naughty children do,
Quite forgetting God is nigh.

Shake your rattle-here it is-
Listen to its merry noise;
And when you are tired of this,
I will bring you other toys.
Mary Lundie Duncan.



GOOD BOY.

When little Ned was sent to bed,
He always acted right;
He kissed mamma and then papa,
And wished them both good-night.

He made no noise, like naughty boys,
But, glad I am to say,
Directly went when he was sent,
Undressed, and knelt to pray.


/


-7







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


SWEETLY SLEEP.
Sleep, my baby-sleep, my boy,
Rest your little weary head;
'Tis your mother rocks her boy
In his little cradle bed.
Lullaby, sweet lullaby I

All the little birds are sleeping-
Every one has gone to rest;
And my precious one is resting
In his pretty cradle nest.
Lullaby, sweet lullaby


1 1


15






16 SONGS FOR THE

Sleep, Oh sleep, my darling boy-
Wake, to-morrow, fresh and strong;
'Tis thy mother sits beside thee,
Singing thee an evening song.
Lullaby, sweet lullaby I Taylor.

GOOD CHARLOTTE.
"Mamma, my head," poor Anna said,
"So very badly aches;
Tell sister there, I cannot bear
Tie tiresome noise she makes."
"I'm sure," said Charlotte, "if I'd known,
Dear sister, you were ill,
I would have read, or drawn, instead,
And have remained quite still."

DO RIGHT.
I love to do right,
And I love the truth;
And I'll always love them,
While in my youth.
And when I grow old,
And when I grow gray,
I will love them still,
Depart who may.








LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


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LEARNING TO WALK.

Come, my darling, come away,
Take a pretty walk to-day;
Run along, and never fear,
I'll take care.of baby dear;
Up and down with little feet,
That's the way to walk, my sweet.

Now you are so very near,
Soon you'll get to mother dear;
There, she comes along at last:
Here's my finger, hold it fast.
Now, one pretty little kiss,
After such a walk as this. Taylor.
2*


I


17


1! ,






18 SONGS FOR THE

DRESSED OR UNDRESSED.
When children are naughty, and will not be
dressed,
Pray what do you think is the way?
Why, often I really think it is best
To keep them in night-clothes all day.
But then they can have no breakfast to eat,
Nor walk with their mother or aunt;
At dinner they'll neither have pudding nor meat,
Nor any thing else that they want.

Then who would be naughty, and sit all the day
In night-clothes not fit to be seen?
And pray, who would lose their dinner and play
For not being dressed neat and clean?


LITTLE STAR.
Good-night, little star;
I will go to my bed,
And leave you to burn,
While I lay down my head

On my pillow to sleep,
Till the morning light;
When you will be fading,
And I shall be bright.







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 19


1z:1

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,











LITTLE DOG.

I'll nevcr hurt a little dog,
But stroke and pat his head;
I like to see him wag his tail,
I like to see him fed.

Then I will never whip my dog,
Nor will I give him pain;
Poor fellow, I will give him food,
And he'll love me again.








GOOD-NIGHT.
Baby, baby, lay your head
On your pretty little bed;
Shut your eye-peeps, now the day
And the light are gone away;
All the clothes are tucked in tight,
Little baby dear, good-night.

MORNING.
Baby, baby, ope your eye,
For the sun is in the sky,
And he's peeping once again
Through the clear, bright window-pane;
Little baby, do not keep
Any longer fast asleep.

POOR ROBIN.
One winter's day the wind blew high,
And fast came down the snow;
A robin, much too weak too fly,
Hopped in the yard below.
Jane threw him crumbs, and from that day,
Her welcome guest he's been;
And often when the children play,
Sweet little Bob is seen.


i


20


SONGS FOR THE






LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


THE CHILD IN THE MORNING.

Now I wake and ope my eyes,
For the sun is in the skies;
He has left his kingly bed,
Clouds of gold and rosy red,
And the earth is full of light
Beaming from his eyes so bright.
Little eyes must open too,
Little folks have work to do:
I must dress me quick and neat,
Nice and clean from head to feet;
Good cold water must not spare,
Brush my teeth and comb my hair;
Then kneel down and slowly say-
Thinking not of work or play,
But with fixed and earnest thought-
That dear prayer our Saviour taught;
Then think softly how to-day
I the Saviour can obey;
How God's name can hallowed be,
And his will be done by me.
I must be a Christian child,
Gentle, patient, meek, and mild;
Must be honest, simple, true,
In my words and actions too.


I


21








I must cheerfully obey,
Giving up my will and way;
Must not always thinking be,
What is pleasantest to me;
But must try kind things to do,
And make others happy too.
If a playmate treats me ill,
I must be forgiving still;
I must learn my lessons well,
Not my schoolmates to excel,
But because my heart's delight
Is in doing what is right.
And in all I do and say,
In my lessons and my play,
Must remember God can view
All I think and all I do;
Glad that he can know I try,
Glad that children such as I,
In our feeble ways, and small,
Can serve Him who loves us all.


22


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


BIRDSNEST.
A little bird built a warm nest in a tree,
And laid some blue eggs in it, one, two, and three,
And then very glad and delighted was she.
And after a while, but how long I can't tell,
The little ones crept, one by one, from the shell,
And their mother was pleased, for she loved
them all well.
She spread her soft wings o'er them all the day
long
To warm them and guard them, her love was
so strong;
And her mate sat beside her, and sung her a song.
One day the young birds were all crying for food,
So off flew their mother away from her brood;
And up came some boys who were wicked and
rude.
They pulled the warm nest down away from
the tree,
The little ones cried, but they could not get free;
So at last they all died away, one, two, and three.
When back to the nest the poor mother did fly,
Oh, then she set up a most piteous cry;
And she mourned a long while, then lay down
to die.
.


I_


23






24 SONGS FOR THE

















MY BROTHER.
Who often with me kindly played,
And all my little playthings made,
My kite and ball-though still unpaid?
My brother.
Who made a sled when winter came,
With little ropes to draw the same,
And on its sides carved out my name?
My brother.
And who was it that taught to me
The way to read my A, B, C,
And marked them on the slate for me?
SMy brother.







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


Who gathered apples from the tree,
Chestnuts and walnuts too, for me;
Who cheerful did all this? but thee,
My brother.
Then may I ever grateful be
For all thy kindness shown to me,
And ne'er withdraw my love from thee,
My brother.
Taylor.

A GOOD-NIGHT SONG.
To bed, to bed, my curly head,
To bed, and sleep so sweetly;
Merry and bright, with the morning light
Be up, and dressed so neatly.
Then for a walk, and a pleasant talk
About the birds and flowers;
And all the day, in work and play,
We'll pass the happy hours.
And then to bed, to rest the head,
And sleep until the morrow:
May every day thus glide away,
Without a shade of sorrow.

THE FLY.
T was God that made the little fly;
But if you pinch it, it will die.
Songs. 3


25







26 SONGS FOR THE

My mother tells me, God has said
We must not hurt what God has made;
For God is very kind and good,
And gives e'en little flies their food;
And he loves every little child,
Who is kind-hearted, good, and mild.

THE BUTTERFLY.

The butterfly, an idle thing,
Nor honey makes, nor yet can sing,
Like busy bee, and bird;
Nor does it, like the prudent ant,
Lay up the grain for times of want-
A wise and cautious hoard.

My youth is but a summer's day;
Then like the bee and ant, I'11 lay
A store of learning by;
And while from flower to flower I rove,
My stock of wisdom I ll improve,
Nor be a butterfly.


I '







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 27


CRADLE HYMN.

Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;
Holy angels guard thy bed;
Heavenly blessings without number,
Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,
House and home, thy friends provide;
All without thy care, or payment,
All thy wants are well supplied.








Soft and easy is thy cradle;
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,
When his birthplace was a stable,
And his softest bed was hay.
Blessed babe what glorious features,
Spotless, fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures?
How could angels bear the sight?
Was there nothing but a manger,
Cursed sinners could afford
To receive the heavenly stranger?
Did they thus affront the Lord?
Soft, my child, I did not chide thee,
Though my song might sound too hard;
'Tis thy mother sits beside thee,
And her arms shall be thy guard.

Yet to read the shameful story,
How the Jews abused their King-
How they served the Lord of glory,
Makes me angry while I sing.

See the kinder shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky;
Where they sought him, there they found
With his virgin mother by. [him,


28


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


See the lovely babe a dressing;
Lovely infant, how he smiled:
When he wept, the mother's blessing
Soothed and hushed the holy Child.
Lo, he slumbers in the manger,
Where the horned oxen fed
Peace, my darling, here's no danger,
There's no oxen near thy bed.
'Twas to save thee, child, from dying,
Save my dear from burning flame,
Bitter groans and endless crying,
That thy blest Redeemer came.
May'st thou live to know and fear him,
Trust and love him all thy days;
Then go dwell for ever near him,
See his face and sing his praise.
I could give thee thousand kisses,
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire.
Dr. Watts.
THE PIGEON.
Cool coo! pretty pigeon, all day,
Coo! coo! to your children and mate;
You seem in your soft note to say,
That you never knew anger or hate.
3*


1


29








And thus little children should try
To be civil, and patient, and kind;
And not to be pettish, and cry,
When they cannot have all to their mind.

ANN.
"Mother, how can flowers grow ?"
Said little Ann, one day;
"The fields are covered o'er with snow-
When will it go away?"
MOTHER.
"A few months hence, dear Ann will view,
In the garden now so white,
The yellow cowslip, violet blue,
And daffodil so bright."

THE BABY-JUMPER.
Now, little Georgie, jump up high;
Never mind, Georgie, mother is by:
Crow and caper, caper and crow,
There, little baby, there you go,
Up to the ceiling, down to the ground,
Upwards and downwards, round and round;
Then jump, little Georgie, and mother shall sing,
While the gay, merry bells go ting-a-ling-ling.


1 9


30


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ORES AT HOME.


MY BABY BROTHER.
"O, dear mamma, where are you gone?
Come, see the baby stand alone;
And only think-indeed, 'tis truth-
I can just feel a little tooth.
"Look at his pretty shining hair,
His cheeks so red, his skin so fair;
His curly ringlets, just like flax;
His little bosom, just like wax.
"0, how I long till he can walk,
And then I'11 long till he can talk,
And then I'11 long till he can play
When we have said our tasks each day.


I


31








"I think he's growing very wise;
Now; don't you think so?" Julia cries:
Then to the cradle off she ran,
To kiss the little baby-man.


HOW I LOVE.
How I love my tender mother,
How I love my father dear;
How I love my little brother,
And my gentle sister here:
They are all both kind and true,
And they dearly love me too.

Be my neighbor proud or lowly,
He shall my affection share;
Be he sinful, be he holy,
He may claim my earnest prayer:
Let me not unfeeling prove,
Nor myself too dearly love.

But of all affection given,
God on high demands the most;
God the Father in the heaven,
God the Son, and Holy Ghost:
Three in one, and One in three,
Be thou all in all to me.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs."


% I1


SONGS FOR, THE


32







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.

I like little pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don't hurt her, she'11 do me no harm;
So I'll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,
But pussy and I very gently will play:
She shall sit by my side, and I'll give her some
food.
And she'll love me, because I am gentle and
good.
I 11 pat little pussy, and then she will purr,
And thus show her thanks for my kindness to
her;


I


33


i I I I : ,, ;iiZI i i. i








1'll not pinch her ears, nor tread on her paw,
Lest I should provoke her to use her sharp claw;
I never will vex her, nor make her displeased,
For pussy don't like to be worried and teased.
Taylor.


THE SLEIGH-RIDE.

Jingle, jingle, go the bells;
A right good time have we,
Over the valleys and over the hills,
Dear grandmamma to see.

The day is bright, and away we go
As swift as swift can be,
Over the smoothly trodden snow,
Dear grandmamma to see.

And look, do look, for there she stands,
Aunt Mary by her side,
To welcome us with outstretched hands
After our pleasant ride.

And there is George and Carlo too,
For they heard the tell-tale bells,
As over the shining road'we flew,
And down the slippery hills.


__
I


34


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


CHERRIES ARE RIPE.
Cherries are ripe,
Cherries are ripe,
0 give the baby one;
Cherries are ripe,
Cherries are ripe,
But baby shall have none:
Babies are too young to choose,
Cherries are too sour to use;
But by and by,
Made in a pie,
No one will them refuse.


__


_ __


35









Up in the tree
Robin I see,
Picking one by one;
Shaking his bill,
Getting his fill,
Down his throat they run:
Robins want no cherry pie;
Quick they eat, and off they fly;
My little child,
Patient and mild,
Surely will not cry.

Cherries are ripe,
Cherries are ripe,
But we will let them fall;
Cherries are ripe,
Cherries are ripe,
But bad for babies small:
Gladly follow mother's will;
Be obedient, kind, and still;
Waiting a while,
Delighted you'll smile,
And joyful eat your fill.
Hastings' "Nursery Songp."


~____


36


SONGSS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


TRUSTY LEARNING TO READ.
Come hither, good Trusty;
See how still you can be,
For I've come to teach you
Your A, B, C.

Brother says you can't learn,
And father says, may be,
Though you never will read,
You may bark A, B, C.

Now, good Trusty, attend;
Let us show them that we
Can learn, if we please,
Our A, B, C.
Songs. 4


I -----I


37






SONGS FOR THE


To what little Kate said,
Trusty seemed to agree:
Do you think he learned much
Of his A, B, C?

AFFECTION.
Does your head ache, little brother ?
Are you sick, and are you weak ?
Are you sad, and tired of playing?
Does it hurt you when you speak?
I can't cure you, darling brother,
Cannot ease a single pain:
I'll go ask our heavenly Father,
He can make you well again.

ALPHABET.
Come, come, my darling, I must see,
How you can say your A, B, C;
Go get your book, and come to me,
And I will hear your E, F, G,
When you have said your A, B, C.
"A, B, C, D, E, F, G,
H, I, J, K, L, M, N, 0, P,
Q, R, S, T, U, W, V,
X, Y, Z, &-Oh dear me,
I'll try to say my A, B, C."


a


38







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


MY LITTLE SISTER
I have a little sister,
She's only two years old;
But she's a little darling,
And worth her weight in gold.
She often runs to kiss me,
When I'm at work or play,
Twining her arms about me
In such a pretty way;
And then she'll say so sweetly,
In innocence and joy,
"Tell me story, sister dear,
About the little boy."
Sometimes when I am knitting,
She'll pull my needles out;
And then she'll skip, and dance around
With such a merry shout.
It makes me laugh to see her,
Though I'm not very glad
To have her take my needles out,
And make my work so bad;
But then if I would have her
To see what she has done,
I must be very gentle,
While telling her the wrong.


__


39







SONGS FOR THE


MORNING HYMN.
The morning bright
With rosy light
Has waked me from my sleep;
Father, I own
Thy love alone
Thy little one doth keep.

All through the day,
I humbly pray,
Be thou my guard and guide;
My sins forgive,
And let me live,
Blest Jesus, near thy side.

O make thy rest
Within my breast,
Great Spirit of all grace;
Make me like thee,
Then I shall be
Prepared to see thy face.

THE GOLDEN RULE.
To do to others as I would
. That they should do to me,
Will make me honest, kind, and good,
As children ought to be.


I-


40






LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


Whether I am at home, or school,
Or walking out abroad,
I never should forget this rule
Of Jesus Christ, our Lord.
THE SILLY FLY.
0 you little silly fly,
-There's a spider watching nigh;
You will soon be in his snare,
Buzzing without heed or care.
There, the little fly is caught
By the spider, quick as thought;
Lo, he binds and bites the fly:
Silly creature, you must die.
Careless children, like the fly,
Do not think when danger's nigh:
Mind not what they do or say,
Thus becoming Satan's prey.
Children thus who learn to sin,
Carelessly at first begin;
By the sin they soon are bound,
Satan's prey they thus are found.
Let us always watchful be,
Pray from sin to be set free;
Then, though Satan's snares are near,
God will keep us in his fear.
4* Child's Book of Poetry.


41








42 SOGS FR TH


O look at my kite,
Almost out of sight;
How pretty it flies,
Right up to the skies.
Pretty kite, pretty kite,
Almost out of sight,
Pray, what do you spy
In the bright blue sky?

John White flew his kite one very windy day,
When a gale broke the tail, and it soon flew away.
And while he sat crying and sighing and sad,
Charley Gray came that way, a good-natured
lad.
"Don't cry, wipe your eye," said he, little Jack,
Stay here, never fear, and I '11 soon bring it back.
Up the tree climbed he, and brought the kite
down;
"Many thanks, many thanks," said dear little
John.


42


SONGS FOR THE


-: -----;
---
IC-







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 43

THE SNOW.
The clouds look sad,
And mother is glad,
For it is going to snow;
And her dear boy
Will dance with joy,
When he on his sled can go.
" 0 mother, say,
Will it snow to-day?"
Has frequently been his cry;
"I cannot tell,
But I think it will,"
Has been the quick reply.
But look, now look,
O quick, drop your book!
The snow has now come at last;
So soft and white,
So pretty and light,
It is falling thick and fast.
Now Bennie boy
Is filled with joy,
He runs for his boots and sled;
Now get his coat
And tie up his throat,
And put a cap on his head.







44 SONGS FOR THE
Then o'er the snow
How fast he'll go,
Giving his sisters a ride;
They'll run about,
And caper and shout,
And down the hill they will slide.


THE MEDDLESOME CHILD.
Matilda was a pleasant child,
But one bad trick she had,
That e'en when all around her smiled,
Oft made her friends feel sad.

Sometimes she'd lift the teapot-lid,
To peep at what was in it;
Or tilt the kettle, if you did
But turn your head a minute.

As grandmamma went out one day,
Her snuff-box and her specs
She down upon the table lay,
Forgetting Tilly's tricks.

Immediately upon her nose
She placed the glasses wide,
Then looking round, as I suppose,
The snuff-box too she spied.







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


So thumb and finger went to work,
To move the stubborn lid;
And as she gave it quite a jerk,
Much mischief then she did.
The snuff came puffing in her face
And eyes and nose and chin,
And as she ran about for ease,
The snuff got further in.
She dashed the spectacles away,
To wipe her tingling eyes;
And there in twenty bits they lay,
As grandmamma she spies.
She then, while smarting with the pain,
Sneezing, and sick and sore,
Made many a promise to refrain
From meddling any more.

Now, before I run to play,
I must not forget to pray
To Him who kept me through the night,
And woke me with the morning light.
Help me, Lord, to love thee more
Than I ever loved before;
In my work and in my play,
Be thou with me through the day.


a


45







SONGS FOR THE


THE ROBINS.
Good-morning, bonnie Annie,
I 'm very glad you've come,
Bringing smiles and kisses
From your pleasant home.
Come and sit beside me
In this little chair;
I'll tell you pretty stories,
My cousin, blithe and fair.
A very pretty sight
This morning I did see-
Four little robins
Sitting on a tree.
A bright red cherry
One of them did pull;
It was large and ripe,
And very beautiful.
So he gave it to his mate,
As if wishing her to see;
And then all along,
To each of the three.
And then they all began
To peck a little piece;
Stopping to whistle,
0, how very nice.


-I


46







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 47


And when they had eaten it,
All so lovingly,
They flew away again,
Singing right merrily.
These little robins,
That live so happily,
Teach many lessons
Sweet and dear to me.
How boys can harm them
I do not know,
And be so cruel to them,
And make them fear us so.
Taylor.


%tci/.
.9; r
r
ii








I knew a robin once
Who was so very tame,
That in at the window
Every day he came.
From out of our hands
His crumbs he would eat,
And sing us a song
On the window-seat.
When spring came again,
He flew to the tree,
And al the long summer
With the rest was free.
But he never forgot
His snug winter nest,
Nor to whistle a song
For those he loved best.

I will not fear,
For God is near,
Through the dark night,
As in the light;
And while I sleep,
Safe watch will keep,
Why should I fear,
When God is near ?


48


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 49




,._







I.




MY LITTLE PONY.
Hop, hop, hop, nimble as a top,
Over hill and valley bounding,
With your clinking hoofs resounding:
Hop, hop, hop, nimble as a top.
Whoa! whoa! whoa! how like fun you go:
Stop, you nag, I tell you, tell you;
If you don't, I'll surely sell you.
Whoa! whoa I whoa! how like fun you go:
Spare, spare, spare; sure enough, we're there;
Very well, my little pony;
Safe's our jaunt, though rough and stony:
Spare, spare, spare; sure enough we're there.
Songs. 5







50 SONGS FOR THE

Here, here, here; yes, my pony dear:
Now with hay and oats I'll treat you,
And with smiles will ever greet you,
Pony dear, yes, my pony dear.


WHAT I LIVE FOR.

I 'm not made for idle play,
Like the butterfly, all day;
Shameful would it be to grow
Like a dunce, and nothing know:
I must learn to read, and look
Often in God's holy book.

Busy I must be, and do
What is right and useful too;
What my parents, fond and kind,
Bid me, I will gladly mind;
Never cause them grief and pain,
Nor will disobey again.

But to God I still will pray,
"Take my wicked heart away;"
He from sin can make me free,
For the Saviour died for me.
O how happy, life to spend
With the Saviour for my friend.






LITTLE ONES AT HOM:


THE COW.
Thank you, pretty cow, that made
Pleasant milk to soak my bread,
Every day and every night,
Warm and fresh, and sweet and white.
Do not chew the hemlock rank,
Growing on the weedy bank;
But the yellow cowslip eat,
That will make it very sweet.
Where the purple violet grows,
Where the bubbling water flows,
Where the grass is fresh and fine,
Pretty cow, go there and dine.


1


E. 51


I







52 SONGS FOR THE
GOOD MOOLLY COW.
Come, supper is ready,
Come, boys and girls, now;
For here is fresh milk
From the good moolly cow.
Have done with your fife
And your row-de-dow-dow,
And take this good milk
From the good moolly cow.
Whoever is fretting
Must clear up his brow,
Or he'll have no milk
From the good moolly cow.
And here is Miss Pussy,
She means by "mee-ow,"
Give me, too, some milk
From the good moolly cow.
When children are hungry,
O who can tell how
They love the fresh milk
From the good moolly cow.
So when you meet moolly,
Please say, with a bow,
"Thank you for your milk,
Mrs. Good Moolly Cow."







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 53

A THOUGHTLESS MAN.
There came to my window,
One morning in spring,
A sweet little robin,
She came there to sing;
And the tune that she sung
Was prettier far
Than ever I heard
On the flute or guitar.
She raised her light wings
To soar far away,
Then resting a moment,
Seemed sweetly to say,
"0 happy, how happy
This world seems to be
Awake, little girl,
And be happy with me."
But just as she finished
Her beautiful song,
A thoughtless young man
With a gun came along.
He killed and he carried
My sweet bird away,
And she no more will sing
At the dawn of the day.
5* Child's Book of Poetry.









THE SLED-RIDE.
Down, down the hill how swift I go,
Over the ice and over the snow;
A horse or cart I do not fear,
For past them both my sled I steer.

Hurrah, my boy, I'm going down,
While you toil up; but never frown:
The far hill-top you soon will gain,
And then, with all your might and main,

You'll dash by me; while, full of glee,
I'll up again, to dash by thee:
So on we glide-0 life of joy;
What pleasure has the little boy


GOOD THOUGHTS.
I must not speak a naughty word,
I must not tell a lie;
I must not contradict, and make
My little sister cry.

And if I have a piece of cake,
When I with children play,
I must not eat it all myself,
But give a part away.
From "My Little Hymn-Book."


I


54


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 55
















LITTLE BOZ.
I have a little dog,
With long white flowing curls
And bright black sparkling eyes,
And he loves little girls.
He has fawn-colored ears,
And very nice clean toes;
He's a sensible dog,
You can tell by his nose.
He'll never snarl or bite,
His temper is so mild,
And dearly loves to play
With every little child.









And every morning early,
This funny little pup
Says, "Bow-wow, little Mary,
'Tis time that you were up."

THE TORN DOLL.
Caty, my dear,
Come here, come here;
I've a short tale for you to hear.
Upon the floor,
Behind the door,
This morn I found a Dolly poor.
Once she was new,
And pretty too,
With cloak and hat, and frock and shoe.
But Oh, dear me,
A sight to see
Has that same Dolly come to be.
Her clothes all worn,
And soiled and torn;
Alas, alas, she looks forlorn.
I wonder who
Has made her so;
Why, Caty dear, can it be you?


1


56


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


ROBIN.
0, poor little robin, so cold and so wet,
Say, what are you doing to-day ?
The winter has come, and now what will you eat,
And where are you going to stay?
Your nest is so open, so cold, and so poor,
You never can live there again;
0 come, pretty robin, come into our door,
And hide from the snow and the rain.
We've clean beds to sleep on, and water to drink,
And things very nice for your food;
Come, come, pretty robin, 0 how can you think
To fly off again in the wood?


I ---------I


57








The bird will not listen; but children young,
That are hungry, or cold, or wet,
May share in my cottage, and join in my song,
And they shall have plenty to eat.
Hastings' Nursery Songs."


LITTLE THINGS.

Little drops of water,
Little grains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean,
And the pleasant land.

Thus the little minutes,
Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages
Of eternity.

Thus our little errors
Lead the soul away
From the path of virtue,
Off in sin to stray.

Little deeds of kindness,
Little words of love,
Make our earth an Eden,
Like the heaven above.


58


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


HELEN.
Little sister, come away,
And let us in the garden play,
For it is a pleasant day.

But the fruit we will not pick;
That would be a naughty trick,
And very likely make us sick.

Nor will we pluck the pretty flowers
That grow about the beds and bowers,
Because, you know, they are not ours.

And much I hope, we always may
Our very dear mamma obey,
And mind whatever she may say.


59









POLLY AND RUBY.
My little canary
I carried one day
To visit Poll Parrot,
So bright and so gay.
Poll Parrot was glad
To see my Canary,
And she said, "Now you've come,
We'll try to be merry.
"I can't strike a tune;
But if you'll begin,
I think, without doubt,
That I can join in."
So Ruby began,
And sang loud and clear;
But Polly's attempts
Did sound very queer.
Then said little Ruby,
"My dear cousin Poll,
Your efforts in singing
Are nothing at all.
"You can whistle and talk,
As you sit and swing;
But I would advise you
| Never to sing."


r I


60


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 61
I .^(. .: .i. ....


DOLLY GOING TO SLEEP.
There, go to sleep, Dolly, in mother's own lap;
I've put on your nightgown and neat little cap:
So sleep, pretty baby, and shut up your eye;
Bye-bye, little Dolly, lie still and bye-bye.

Now I'll lay my clean handkerchief over your
head,
And then make you think that my lap is your
bed;
So hush, little dear, and be sure you don't cry;
Bye-bye, little Dolly, lie still and bye-bye.
Songs. 6









There, now it is morning, and time to get up;
I'll crumb you a mess in my own china cup: 4
Awake, little baby, and open your eye,
For I think it's high time to be done with bye
bye.

SATURDAY NIGHT.
Now Dolly, my dear,
I pray you come here;
The daylight has gone,
And work is all done:
I'11 put you to bed, for to-morrow is Sunday,
And I shall not see you again until Monday.
You don't want to go ?
But you ought to know
That it is but right;
So, Dolly, good-night:
You must lie without noise or crying till Mon-
day,
For you know we ought not to play on a Sunday.

MY DOLL.
I have a little doll,
I take care of her clothes;
She has soft flaxen hair,
And her name is Rose.


I


62


SONGS FOR THE





I -


63


LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


She has pretty blue eyes,
And a very small nose,
And a sweet little mouth-
And her name is Rose.
I have a little bedstead,
Where Dolly may repose,
Or sit up like a lady-
And her name is Rose.

COUNTRY MUSIC.
The cock is crowing,
The cows are lowing;
The ducks are quacking,
The dogs are barking;
The mule is braying,
The horse is neighing;
The sheep are baa-ing,
The boys ha-ha-ing;
The birds are singing,
The bells are ringing;
The brook is babbling,
The geese are gabbling;
The pigs are squeaking,
The barn-door creaking;
Sally is churning,
The grindstone turning;








John is sawing,
Willie hurrahing;
The peacock screeching,
And Carrie teaching,
Amid all the noise.

GOOD CHILD.
I love to do as I am bid;
I love to please mamma:
I love to get my lesson too,
And spell to my papa.
When children want my pretty toys,
Or little picture-book,
I dearly love to give them up,
And see how pleased they look.
I love to please the Saviour too,
And mind the rule he's given;
For then I think that I shall go
To live with him in heaven.
"My Little Hymn-Book."

LITTLE MARY.
Little Mary was good,
The weather was fair,
She went with her mother
To breathe the fresh air.


64


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


The birds were all singing;
Mary chatted away,
And she felt as merry
And happy as they.


SPRING.
With March comes in the pleasant spring,
When little birds begin to sing;
To build their nests, to hatch their brood,
With tender care provide them food.
SUMMER.
And summer comes with verdant June;
The flowers then are in full bloom,
All nature smiles, the fields look gay;
The weather 's fine to make the hay.
AUTUMN.
September comes: the golden corn,
By many busy hands is shorn;
Autumn's ripe fruits, an ample store,
Are gathered in for rich and poor.
WINTER.
Winter's cold frost and northern blast-
This is the season that comes last:
The snow has come, the sleigh-bells ring,
And'merry boys rejoice and sing.
6


65









KITTY.

Little puss, come here to me,
Gently jump upon my knee;
Let me feel how soft your feet:
Never will I poor Kitty beat.

How very nicely you can draw
Quite out of sight each little claw;
But when a mouse you see below,
You pounce upon the poor thing so.

You loose it oft, and let it run,
And then pursue it, as in fun;
Oh I have heard papa oft say,
It was a very cruel way.

So, pussy, you must kill it quite,
And not put it in such a fright;
It is so gentle, and so weak,
It makes me sad to hear it squeak.


A VISIT TO THE LAMBS.
Mamma, let's go and see the lambs;
This warm and sunny day
I think must make them very glad,
And full of fun and play.


66


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 67


Ah, there they are. You pretty things I
Now, don't you run away;
I'm come on purpose, with mamma,
To see you this fine day.
What pretty little heads you've got,
And such good-natured eyes;
That ruff of wool all round your necks,
How nicely curled it lies.
Come here, my little lambkin, come
And lick my hand-now do:
How silly to be so afraid,
Indeed I wont hurt you.






80NGS FOR THE


Just put your hand upon its back,
Mamma; how nice and warm:
There, pretty lamb, you see I don't
Intend to do you harm.
Child's Book of Poetry.

WHAT WOULD PUSS SAY?
"What would our pussy say,
If she could only talk ?"
She'd say she loved to play,
And scamper round the walk;
And when she's tired with play,
To lie upon the rug,
And sleep an hour away,
All cuddled up so snug.
When hungry, she would come
To ask me for her food;
Then eat till she was done,
And say 't was very'good.
I'd tell her not to steal,
If she was left alone;
But guess that she can't feel
Sorry for doing wrong.

SUM OF THE COMMANDMENTS.
With all thy soul love God above,
And as thyself thy neighbor love.


L


68







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 69
















RUN AND PLAY.
There, run away, you little things,
And skip, and jump, and play;
You have been quiet long enough,
So run away, I say.
John, you and Mary roll your hoops,
George on a stick can ride;
And Ann with Charlotte run a race,
Or any play beside.
The sweet, fresh air so softly blows,
So brightly shines the sun,
That active limbs and rosy cheeks
Will in the race be won.








For little boys and girls mnay sing,
And frisk, and jump, and play,
When work and lessons both are done;
So run away, I say.

SATURDAY NIGHT.
How pleasant is Saturday night,
When I've tried all the week to be good,
Not spoken a word that was bad,
And obliged every one that I could.
To-morrow the sweet Sabbath comes,
Which our merciful Father hath given,
That we may have rest from our work,
And prepare for the Sabbath of heaven.
From "My Little Hymn-Book."

THE ORPHAN NOSEGAY-GIRL.
"A nosegay-who'll buy ?" cried a sweet little
child,
An orphan left friendless and poor;
"I've roses and pinks, and sweet-briar wild,
And heaven will bless you thrice o'er.
Then pray buy my roses, indeed they're not
dear;
Each bud shall be moistened with gratitude's
tear.


I


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SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


"Oh pray buy my roses-for hard is my fate,
My poor little sisters want bread;
Bestow but a mite, before 't is too late;
Our parents to heaven are fled.
Then pray buy my roses, indeed they're not
dear;
Each bud shall be moistened with gratitude's
tear.

THE LAMB'S LULLABY.
The pretty little lambs that lie,
And sleep upon the grass,
Have none to sing them lullaby
But the night winds as they pass.
While I, a happy little maid,
Bid dear papa good-night;
And in my crib so warm am laid,
And tucked up snug and tight.
And then some pretty hymn Ann sings
Until to sleep I go;
But the young helpless lambs, poor things,
Have none to lull them so.
Haste, kind mamma, and call them here,
Where they'll be warm as I;
For in the chilly fields, I fear,
Before the morn they'll die.


A


I


71









MOTHER.
The lambs sleep in the fields, 't is true,
Without a lullaby;
And yet they are as warm as you
Beneath a summer sky.
They choose some dry and grassy spot,
Beneath the shady trees;
To other songs they listen not
Than the pleasant evening breeze.
And when the night is bitter cold,
The shepherd comes with care,
And leads them to his peaceful fold;
They 're safe and sheltered there.
How happy are the lambs, my love,
How safe and calm they rest;
But you a Shepherd have above,
Of all kind shepherds best.
His lambs he gathers in his arms,
And in his bosom bears;
How blest, how safe from all alarms,
Each child his love who shares!
Oh, if you'll be his gentle child,
And listen to his voice,
Be loving, dutiful, and mild,
How will mamma rejoice!
Mary Lundie Duncan.


___ __ __
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SONGS FOR THE






LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


THE WORK-BAG.
Come here, I've got a piece of rag,
To make you such a pretty bag;
Indeed, you will not often see
So nice a bag as this shall be.

And when it's done, I'll show you, too,
The other things I have for you:
This book's to put your needles in,
And that, you know, 's a pincushion.

And then you need not lose a minute,
But if you always keep them in it,
You never more will need to say,
"I wonder where they're hid away !

Pray, somebody, do try and look:
My thimble's lost, and needle book;"
But then the pleasant sound shall be,
"They 're in my work-bag-I shall see "
Taylor.


THE HONEST BOY.
Once there was a little boy
With curly hair and pleasant eye,
A boy who always told the truth,
And never, never told a lie.
Songs. 7


73








And when he trotted off to school,
The children all about would cry,
"There goes the curly-headed boy,
The boy that never tells a lie."

And every body loved him so,
Because he always told the truth,
That every day, as he grew up,
'Twas said, "There goes the honest
youth."

And when the people that stood near,
Would turn to ask the reason why,
The answer would be always this,
"Because he never tells a lie."


VERY LITTLE THINGS.
Very little things are we,
Oh how mild we all should be;
Never quarrel, never fight,
That would be a shocking sight.

Just like pretty little lambs,
Softly skipping by their dams;
We'll be gentle all the day,
Love to learn as well as play.


SONGS FOR TrHE


74







LITTLE ONES AT HdME.


THE SHADOWS.
The candles are lighted, the fire blazes bright,
The curtains are drawn to keep out the cold
air;
What makes you so grave, little darling, to-
night?
And where is your smile, little quiet one,
where?

"Mamma, I see something so dark on the wall;
It moves up and down, and it looks very
strange;


`I


75








Sometimes it is large, and sometimes it is
small;
Pray tell me what is it, and why does it
change ?"

It's only my shadow that puzzles you so;
And there is your own close beside it, my
love:
Now run round the room, it will go where you go;
When you sit 't will be still, when you rise
it will move.


These wonderful shadows are caused by the
light,
From fire and from candles, upon us that
falls;
Were we not sitting here all that place would .
be bright,
But the light can't shine through us, you
know, on the walls.


And when you are out some fine day in the sun,
I 'll take you where shadows of apple-trees lie;
And houses and cottages too, every one
Casts a shade when the sun's shining bright
in the sky.


1


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SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 77

Now hold up your mouth and give me a sweet
kiss-
Our shadows kiss too! don't you see it quite
plain?
"Oh yes; and I thank you for telling me this:
I'll not be afraid of a shadow again."
M. L. Duncan.

THE LORD'S PRAYER.
Our Father, our Father in heaven,
Be hallowed thy glorious name;
To thee let the kingdom be given,
Thy will we acknowledge supreme.
We would by thy bounty be fed,
By infinite mercy forgiven;
Nor into temptation be led,
Nor into sad evils be driven.
For thine is the kingdom, 0 Lord,
The power and the glory are thine;
Be for ever and ever adored,
On earth as in heaven divine.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs."'

BE PLEASANT.
When little ones worry,
Their parents feel sorry,
And all who are near them are sad;
7*







78 SONGS FOR THE

But when they are good,
And smile as they should,
Their friends are contented and glad.
How much better it is to be cheerful and sing,
Than to have to be called, "a cross little thing."


TIME TO ARISE.
Father and mother, 't is time to arise,
The sun has risen to brighten the skies;
Every bird is singing high-
Birds are glad, and so am I.

Merrily, merrily those in the tree,
Bluebird and Robin, are singing to me:
Round the window see them fly-
Birds are glad, and so am I.

Glad little Robin, you never can know
Who is the Maker that fashioned you so;
Yet you cannot weep or sigh-
Birds are glad, and so am I.

He who created the birds of the air,
Securely will keep me from trouble and care:
He has taught the birds to fly-
Birds are glad, and so am I.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs."







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


IF EVER I SEE.
If ever I see,
On bush or tree,
Young birds in their pretty nest,
I must not in play,
Steal the birds away,
To grieve their mother's breast.

My mother I know
Would sorrow so,
Should I be stolen away;
So I'11 speak to the birds
In my softest words,
Nor hurt them in my play.


79









And when they can fly
In the bright blue sky,
They'll warble a song to me;
And then if I'm sad,
It will make me glad
To think they are happy and free.

GOOD ADVICE FOR THE LITTLE ONES.
My dear little child,
Be gentle and mild;
For what can you get
By passion and pet,
But sorrow and shame,
A very bad name,
The loss of your peace,
And guilt in its place?

DEAR MAMMA.
My own mamma; my dear mammal
How happy shall I be,
To-morrow night at candlelight,
When she comes home to me!
'T is just one week since on my cheek
She pressed the parting kiss:
It seems like two; I never knew
So long a week as this.


I


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SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


My tangled hair she smoothed with care,
With water bathed my brow;
And all with such a gentle touch-
I wish she'd do it now.
But she will come; she'll be at home
To-morrow night; and then
I hope that she will never be
So long away again.

GOING TO BED.
Down upon my pillow warm,
I now lay my little head,
And the rain, and wind, and storm,
Cannot come too nigh my bed.
Many little children poor
Have not anywhere to go;
And sad hardships they endure,
Such as I did never know.
Dear mamma, I'll thank you oft
For this comfortable bed,
And this pretty pillow soft,
Where I rest my weary head.
And I'll lift my heart in prayer
To the God that dwells above;
Thank him for his watch and care,
And for all his tender love.


I 1


81









THE CHICKENS.
See, the chickens round the gate
For their morning portion wait;
Fill the basket from the store,
Let ns open wide the door:
Throw out crumbs, and scatter seed,
Let the hungry chickens feed.
Call them; now how fast they run,
Gladly, quickly, every one;

Eager, busy hen and chick,
Every little morsel pick:
See the hen with callow brood,
To her young how kind and good;
With what care their steps she leads--
Them, and not herself she feeds:
Picking here and picking there,
Where the nicest morsels are.

As she calls, they flock around,
Bustling all along the ground.
When their daily labors cease,
And at night they rest in peace,
All the little tiny things
Nestle close beneath her wings;
There she keeps them safe and warm,
Free from fear, and free from harm.


82


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 83

Now, my little child, attend:
Your almighty Father, friend,
Though unseen by mortal eye,
Watches o'er you from on high:
As the hen her chickens leads,
Shelters, cherishes, and feeds;
So by him your feet are led,
Over you his wings are spread.

THE BEGGAR-GIRL.
There's a poor beggar going by,
I see her looking in;
She's just about as big as I,
Only so very thin.
She has no shoes upon her feet,
She is so very poor;
And hardly any thing to eat:
I pity her I'm sure.
But I have got nice clothes, you know,
And meat, and bread, and fire;
And dear mamma, that loves me so,
And all that I desire.
If I were forced to stroll so far,
Oh dear, what should I do?
I wish she had a kind mamma,
Just such a one as you.







SONGS FOR THE


Here, little girl, come back again,
And hold that ragged hat,
And I will put a penny in:
There, buy some bread with that.


THE COLD WATER BOY.
Hurrah, for a splash!
Come, give me a dash,
With the water all clear and cold;
It makes me so bright,
So active and light,
'T is better than silver and gold.

Oh, what should I do,
Dear mother, if you
Never washed me so sweet and so clean?
Come, give me a splashing;
It is so refreshing,
All the day I would like to stay in.

I never would cry,
Nor halloo-not I-
Unless 't were for joy and for glee;
I love the good splashing,
And plunging and dashing:
Hurrah for cold water for me I


---


84







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


$1


Ir~;I~


THE RAGMAN.
Ding a ling, ding ding,
I hear the bells ring,
The ragman is at the door;
He asks us for trash,
And gives us the cash,
And with that we can help the poor.
So I'll make some bags,
To save all the rags
That are scattered about on the floor;
For mother has said,
That every thread
Will help to buy food for the poor.
Songs 8


I ..--


85








They're nothing to us,
And it saves the muss
To pick them up from the floor;
And we must do all,
Though ever so small,
That we can, to help the poor.

THE ORPHAN'S SONG.
I saw a little lamb to-day,
It was not very old;
Close by its mother's side it lay,
So soft within the fold:
It felt no sorrow, pain, or fear,
While such a comforter was near.
Sweet little lamb, you cannot know.
What blessing I have lost:
Were you like me, what could you do,
Amid the wintry frost?
My clothes are thin, my food is poor,
And I must beg from door to door.
I had a mother once, like you,
To keep me by her side:
She cherished me and loved me too;
But soon, alas, she died!
Now, sorrowful and full of care,
I'm lone and weary everywhere.


86


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


'T was thus a little orphan sung,
Her lonely heart to cheer;
Before she wandered very long,
She found a Saviour near:
He bade her seek his smiling face,
And find in heaven a dwelling-place.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs."


THE TUMBLE.
Tumble down, tumble up, never mind it, my
sweet:
No, no; never beat the poor floor;
'T was your fault that you could not stand
straight on your feet;
Beat yourself, if you beat any more.

Oh, dear, what a noise: will a noise make it
well ?
Will crying wash bruises away ?
Suppose it should bleed a little and swell,
'T will all be gone down in a day.

That's right; be a man, and dry up your tears;
Come, smile, and I'll give you a kiss:
If you live in the world but a very few years,
You must bear greater troubles than this.
Taylor.


I


87








THE LARK.
I hear a pretty bird, but hark 1
I cannot see it anywhere.
Oh, it is a little lark,
Singing in the morning air.
Little lark, do tell me why
You are singing in the sky?

Other little birds at rest,
Have not yet begun to sing;
Every one is in its nest,
With its head behind its wing.
Little lark, then tell me why
You're so early in the sky?

You look no bigger than a bee,
In the middle of the blue,
Up above the poplar-tree;
I can hardly look at you.
Little lark, do tell me why
You are mounted up so high?

'T is to watch the silver star,
Sinking slowly in the skies;
And beyond the mountain far,
See the glorious sun arise:
Little lady, this is why
I am mounted up so high.


I I


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SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


'T is to sing a merry song,
To the pleasant morning light;
Why stay in my nest so long,
When the sun is shining bright?
Little lady, this is why
I sing so early in the sky.
To the little birds below,
I do sing a merry tune;
And I let the ploughman know,
He must come to labor soon.
Little lady, this is why
I am singing in the sky.
Songs for Children.

NEVER FORGET TO PRAY.
Never, my child, forget to pray,
Whate'er the business of the day:
If happy dreams have blessed thy sleep,
If startling fears have made thee weep,
With holy thoughts begin the day,
And ne'er, my child, forget to pray.
Pray Him by whom the birds are fed,
To give to thee thy daily bread:
If wealth his bounty should bestow,
Praise Him from whom all blessings flow:
If he who gave should take away,
0 ne'er, my child, forget to pray.
8*


__


89







90 SONGS FOR THE

The time will come when thou wilt miss
A father's and a mother's kiss:
And then, my child, perchance you'll see
Some who in prayer ne'er bend the knee:
From such examples turn away,
And ne'er, my child, forget to pray.
Child's Book of Poetry.

THE BUD.
Pretty bud, I love to see
Much in you resembling me;
And from your instructive look,
Learn as from a little book.

I am young, and so are you,
Life with us is fresh and new;
Yet fair buds oft withered lie,
And the youngest children die.

Riper flowers may wide expand,
Win the eye and court the hand;
But, like you, 0 may I be
Graced with humble modesty.

When 't is evening, dark and chill,
Close you wrap yourself from ill;
So may God my heart secure,
Safe from every thing impure.







LITTLE ONES AT HOME


And as, when the sun is up,
You expand your little cup;
So thy beams may I possess,
Christ the Sun of righteousness.
Child's Book of Poetry.


THE BEGGAR-BOY.

A poor boy went by with his raiment all torn:
He looked, too, so dirty and very forlorn:
His coat was in tatters, no shoes on his feet;
And they ached with the cold on the stones of
the street.

Poor boy! no kind father or mother has he;
Nor has he a nice house at home as have we:


91









He begs all the day for a morsel of bread,
And perhaps sleeps at night in a comfortless shed.
He has no kind friends to instruct him and
guide,
And he hears what is sinful, and sees it beside:
Oh, how good and how thankful I then ought
to be,
To the God who has given these good things
to me!
Child's Book of Poetry.

DAWN OF DAY.
Come, arise from thy sleep,
Through the window now peep;
Birds sweetly are straying,
Their bright plumes displaying,
At dawn of day.
Let us breathe the fresh air,
For the morning is fair,
And the forest is ringing
With merry birds singing,
At dawn of day.
Come along for a talk,
Or a sweet morning walk,
While the garden discloses
Its bright blushing roses,
At dawn of day.


I 1


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SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 93

But first to our King
Let us joyfully sing,
And praises be paying;
'T is good to be praying,
At dawn of day.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs."

A, B, C.
The A, B, C,
Is pleasant to me,
I'm learning it all the day;
Whenever I look
In a printed book,
I see nothing but A, B, C.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C,
I see nothing but A, B, C.

I'm glad to know
The fine little row
Of letters both great and small;
The D, E, F, G,
The L, M, N, O, P,
And the X, Y, Z, and all.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing R, S, T,
Sing X, Y, Z, and all.









If I can fix
These marks twenty-six
In this little careless head,
I'll read every book,
As soon as I look
At the letters all over it spread.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
And the letters all over it spread.

I now will learn
Them all in turn,
The big letters and the small;
For how can I spell,
Or pronounce them well,
Till I shall have learned them all?
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
For I'm going to learn them all.

The bees and the flies
Have nice little eyes,
But never can read like me;
They crawl on the book,
And they seem to look,
But they never know A, B, C:


1


94


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME.


Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C,
They never can know A, B, C.
Hastings' "Nursery Songs."

THE SPARROW.
Glad to see you, little bird,
'T was your little chirp I heard;
What did you intend to say ?
"Give me something this cold day ?"
That I will, and plenty too;
All these crumbs I saved for you:
Don't be frightened-here's a treat;
I will wait and see you eat.
Shocking tales I hear of you;
Chirp, and tell me, are they true?
Robbing all the summer long;
Don't you think it very wrong ?
Thomas says you steal his wheat,
John complains his plums you eat,
Choose the ripest for your share,
Never asking whose they are.
But I will not try to know
What you did so long ago:
There's your breakfast, eat away;
Come and see me every day.
Child's Book of Poetry.


95








THE SNOW-SHOWER.
"See, mamma, the crumbs are flying
Fast and thickly through the air;
On the branches they are lying,
On the walks and everywhere.
Oh, how glad the birds will be,
When so many crumbs they see."
"No, my little girl, 't is snowing,
Nothing for the birds is here;
Very cold the air is growing,
'T is the winter of the year:
Frost will nip the robins' food,
'T will no more be sweet and good.
"See the clouds the skies that cover,
'T is from them the snow-flakes fall,
Whitening hills and fields all over,
Hanging from the fir-trees tall.
Were it warm, 't would rain; but lo,
Frost has changed the rain to snow."
"If the robins food are needing,
Oh, I hope to me they'll come;
I should like to see them feeding
On the window of my room:
I'll divide with them my store,
Much I wish I could do more."
Mary Lundie Duncan.


96


SONGS FOR THE







LITTLE ONES AT HOME. 97


11 111!,U IA lllB i' l 'V Tl E;
THE LITTLE GIRL THAT COULD NOT
READ.
I don't know my letters, and what shall I do?
For I've got a nice book, but I can't read it
through;
O dear, how I wish that my letters I knew.
I think I had better begin them to-day,
'T is so like a dunce to be always at play:
Mamma, if you please, will you teach me great
A,
And then B and C, as they stand in the row,
One after another, as far as they go ?
For then I can read my new story, you know.
Songs. 9









So do, mamma, tell me at once, and you'll see
What a good, very good little child I shall be,
To try and remember my A, B, C, D.
Taylor.

THE BLIND BOY.
"Dear Mary," said the poor blind boy,
"That little bird sings very long;
Say, do you see him in his joy,
And is he pretty as his song ?"
Yes, Edward, yes," replied the maid,
"I see the bird on yonder tree;"
The poor boy sighed, and gently said,
"Sister, I wish that I could see.
The flowers, you say, are very fair,
And bright green leaves are on the trees,
And pretty birds are singing there-
How beautiful for one who sees.
"Yet I the fragrant flowers can smell,
And I can feel the green leafs shade,
And I can hear the notes that swell
From those dear birds that God has made.
"So, sister, God to me is kind,
Though sight to me he has not given;
But tell me, are there any blind
Among the children up in heaven?


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98


SONGS FOR THE




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