Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 The changed boy
 Susan's choice, and what it led...
 Old Willy
 The contrast
 Back Cover

Title: Aunt Esther's tales in verse
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00066414/00001
 Material Information
Title: Aunt Esther's tales in verse
Physical Description: 96 p., 1 leaf of plates : col. ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Esther
Religious Tract Society (Great Britain) ( Publisher )
Unwin Brothers (Firm) ( Printer )
St. Martha Printing Works ( Printer )
Publisher: Religious Tract Society
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Unwin Brothers ; Water Power ; St. Martha Printing Works
Publication Date: [187-?]
Subject: Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Christian life -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1875   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1875
Genre: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
England -- Chilworth
General Note: Date of publication based on binding indicating publication in the 1870's.
General Note: Frontispiece printed in colors.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00066414
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002218708
notis - ALF8886
oclc - 71439514

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Title Page
        Page 1
        Page 2
    Table of Contents
        Page 3
        Page 4
    The changed boy
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
    Susan's choice, and what it led to
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
    Old Willy
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
    The contrast
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
Full Text












THE CHANGED BOY ... ... ... ... ... 19


OLD WILLY... ... ... ... ... ... ... 69

THE CONTRAST ... ... ... ... .. ... 87


(MATT. ix. 13.)

ITHIN a pleasant village green,
Not many years ago; [child,
There lived a poor neglected
Whose name was little Joe.

No loving mother trained the boy
To tread in paths of truth;
No wisdom fell from father's lips
To guide his erring youth.

No one took care of little Joe;
For when a tiny babe,
His poor, sad mother drooped and died,
Then in the grave was laid.


The boy grew up 'midst dirt and rags,
Unwashed, uncombed, and wild;
The neighbours looked with pitying eye
Upon the drunkard's child.

His father was a labouring man,
And earned his money fast;
But took it to the public-house
And long it did not last.

Then, reeling home, the angry man
Would seek for little Joe,
And on his young and tender head
Would deal him many a blow.

No supper for the wretched child
Was by his father brought;
So, hungry, cold, and desolate,
His bed of straw he sought.

And there, while other children slept,
This child would lie and weep;
Until his troubles were forgot,
And he would fall asleep.


The village children clean and neat,
Each morning went to school, [write,
Where they were taught to read and
And keep the master's rule.

But, loitering idly in the street,
All day was little Joe;
And even at the age of twelve,
His letters did not know.

On Sunday morn the village bell,
Rung out the hour of prayer;
And old and young to church would go,
But Joe was never there.

He nothing knew of God and heaven,
Of Jesus, God's dear Son;
He did not know the wondrous things
That Christ the Lord had done.

Of how He left His Father's home
Of glory in the sky,
And came to earth with us to live
And then for us to die.


Joe did not know it was our sins,
That brought Christ to the tree;
And that He suffered in our stead,
That we might be set free.

Then how He rose and went above,
A mansion to prepare;
And now takes little children up
His happy home to share-

Children who seek the Saviour's grace,
And come to Him in prayer,
Believing through His precious blood
To gain admission there.

But though Joe never went to school,
And none of these things knew,
Yet sinful ways he quickly learned,
And wicked tricks could do.

His father taught him how to steal,
And how to lie and swear;
A worse boy scarcely could be found
Than poor Joe anywhere.


As soon as he was old enough,
His father took him out
To ladies' houses where he worked,
And made him stand about.

And then whatever there might be
Within the reach of Joe-
On table, dresser, sideboard, shelf,
That thing was sure to go.

He taught Joe how to act the fool,
And simple ways to show;
And then, if caught, his father said-
Poor boy, he did not'know

"That it was wrong to cheat and steal;
He's silly-don't you see ?
Oh, please forgive my foolish boy,
Let him go home with me."

Thus trained in paths of sin and vice,
Far off Joe went astray;
Away from light, and life, and heaven,
Further he got each day.


A long way off he wandered on,
Sin's downward path he trod;
In darkness, guilt, and misery,
Forgetful of his God.

But Jesus watched this straying lamb
With tender, pitying eye,
And stopped him on his downward road,
And would not let him die.

'Twas on a Sunday afternoon,
A kind, good man was sent,
To preach within the village church
Where all the children went.

They passed along in smiling groups,
In garments neat and clean;
And staring at them as they went
Poor dirty Joe was seen.

They all had learnt to shun the boy,
Or pass him by in fear;
None sought to have his company,
Or even venture near.


Except one gentle little girl
Who loved the Saviour well,
And sought in many little ways
Of Jesus' love to tell.

She often wished that Joe might know
How Jesus loved him too-
That He could take away his sins,
And make his nature new.

She knew that even little ones
May something do to show
How they desire to serve and please
The Lord who loves them so.

It was not much a child could do;
And so she looked above,
And asked that God the Holy Ghost
Would guide her word of love.

Then tripping lightly 'cross the road,
She came right up to Joe,
And said-" I'm on my way to church,
I wish that you would go.


" Do say you'll go along with me;
For there's a kind good man
Come here, to talk to boys and girls,
And all should go who can.

" He tells us such nice things of God-
Of Jesus Christ and heaven-
How we may all His children be,
And have our sins forgiven."

Poor Joe it sounded strange to him,
He hardly thought it true;
But still he said--"As you're so kind,
I think I'll go with you."

So dirty Joe and tidy Kate
Together went their way,
Kate was too happy far to think
What other folks would say.

Together in the church they sat,
And heard the voice of prayer;
Then the sweet singing, soft and clear,
Which made the poor boy stare.


He'd never heard such songs before,
Joe's songs were base and low;
The children's pretty Christian hymns
And tunes he did not know.

Then when he heard the thrilling tales
Of Jesus' dying love,
To save poor children such as they,
And carry them above,-

Joe thought it could not be for him;
But, listening for the rest,
He heard the minister give out
A short and simple text,-

Words from the precious Book of Truth
Which Jesus spake to all-
" It is not'righteous ones I seek,
Sinners I came to call."

"Then that be's me!" poor Joe cried out,
As springing to his feet,
He pointed to the minister,
Then quickly took his seat.


The kind good man went on to speak
Of things above the sky,
And tell how those who love the Lord
Will have them by-and-by.

He told them of the robes of white
Which ransomed ones will wear;
Of harps, and crowns, and jewels bright'
And palms of victory there.

IIow. Jesus \welcomes those who come,
For He has room for all;
Again he told them Jesus said,
Sinners I came to call."

"Then that be's me again Joe cried,
More earnest than before;
Whiletears streamed down his dirty face,
And then he said no more.

The meeting closed, all left the church,
And homeward took their way.;
But no more, loitering in the street,
Was poor Joe seen that day.


From that time forth, a pleasing change
In every way took place;
You scarce could recognize the boy,
With his clean, smiling face.

He turned away from wicked boys
With whom he used to go;
And when they wanted him to fight,
Joe always now said, No!

" Poor Joe be's called he cannot fight,
And steal, and lie no more;
He must give up those wicked ways
That he has loved before."

Then they would laugh and point at him,
But he would only say-
" Poor Joe be's called so never mind;"
And then would go away.

Nor would he with his father go
Do what his father would;
He cursed, and swore, and beat him sore,
Yet firm the poor boy stood.


" Poor Joe be's called! was still his cry,
Whate'er his father said;
Nor would he cease, though many blows
Descended on his head.

And then he turned Joe out of doors,
And gave him naught to eat;
But Jesus saw, and took the lad
Out of the dark, cold street.

He put it in a good man's heart
To take Joe to his farm;
Where in a barn, quite snug and warm,
He slept secure from harm.

When morning came with rosy light,
He gave Joe work to do;
First in the field, then in the house,
And all to him was new.

He gave him nice good food to eat,
He gave him clothes to wear;
And now a happier boy than Joe,
You'd scarce find anywhere.


He taught Joe how to read and write,
And sometimes let him play
With boys and girls who came to turn
And toss about the hay.

But better far than all beside,
He sought to guide the youth
In wisdom's ways of piety-
To tread in paths of truth.

And Joe was very apt to learn,
For still you'd hear him say-
" Poor Joe be's called to know the Lord,
And he must go that way."

Month after month thus passed away,
And Joe a big boy grew;
Steady and thoughtful he became,
Truthful and honest too.

He how could read his Bible well,
He loved the hour of prayer;
When there was service at the church,
Joe always would be there.


He grew in knowledge of his God,
Of Jesus Christ and heaven;
He now could say with holy joy-
My sins are all forgiven."

He now believed that Jesus died
To put away his sin;
And, trusting to Christ's finished work,
Had peace and joy within.

And as Joe grew in faith and love
His thoughts would often turn
To sinners lost as he had been,
Which made his spirit yearn.

He longed to tell them of God's love
In sending Christ to die;
He longed to point them to that home
Of glory in the sky.

He asked tha Godwould make hinm v.. i
Some precious souls to win;
That he might be the instrument,
In saving some from sin.


Joe told his master what he thought,
Who was so very kind,
He gave him leave to use his barn
For any he might find,

Who would be willing there to meet,
That they might learn the way
Thro' this dark world of sin and woe,
To heaven's eternal day.

Joe soon found out a few poor lads
As bad as he had been;
And these, won over by his words,
Were willing to come in.

And soon their number was increased;
For they brought others too ;
Joe's heart was now so full of joy
He scarce knew what to do.

He tl!.:.ght that :.u.:-h a pretty sight
He 'd never seen before-
A barn of children such as those,
All sitting on the floor.


Joe taught them how to sing sweet hymns
And how to read and pray; [touched,
And many rough young hearts were
By words which he would say.

But, more than all, Joe loved to tell,
The same old story o'er;
How Jesus saved Ihis soul from hell,
And would save many more.

"The old, old story of the Cross,
To Joe was ever new;
And day by day he asked the Lord
That they might know it too.

" Children he often used to say-
Children! Christ died for all;
The worst one need not stay away,
Sinners He came to call.

Come then to Jesus, one and all,
And ask that you may be
Washed in His pure and precious blooa.
And be from sin set free."


And while Joe spoke these words of truth,
God's Spirit gave him power;
And blessed the message thus pro-
To many in that hour. [claimed

Sin-hardened hearts were softened now,
Melted by Jesus' love;
Coarse natures, yielding to its power,
Turned gentle as a dove.

Thus time passed on, and there alone,
Known only by a few,
Joe wrought for God a mighty work,
Which angels ne'er could do.

He walked with God as Enoch did,
And daily grew in grace;
But much he longed with unveiled eye,
To see the Saviour's face.

And God soon granted Joe's desire,
And called him to arise
From his poor, humble home on earth,
To mansions in the skies.


Joe's strength began to fail him fast,
Weaker he got each day;
But Jesus nearer to him came,
To beckon him away.

Joe heard Him say, in tones of love,
My child, thy work is done;
Thou hast obtained the crown of life,
The palm of victory won."

His boys stood weeping round his bed,
Their hearts with anguish sore;
To think that he whom now they loved,
Would never teach them more.

His father came, but oh sad truth,
A drunkard still was he;
A wicked man he still remained
As bad as bad could be.

Much had Joe prayed and hoped to see
A saving change take place;
But, hitherto, no change was seen,
No sign of saving grace.


Joe urged him now to seek the Lord;
Father he said, you see
What power the blood of Jesus has,
What it has done for me.

"Do come and prove its cleansing power,
For Jesus died for all ;"
Once more, he said, with dying breath,
Simers lie came to call."

Then turning to his weeping boys,
Joe bade them look above;
" My boys he said, "your Father's
Whose heart is full of love. [there,

"He will direct and guide your way,
And keep you safe from harm;
Jesus, your kind, good Shepherd, too,
Will shield you with His arm."

Joe's gentle master whom he served,
Drew near and took his hand :
"Master !" he said, "I'm almost home
Safe in Immanuel's land.


( I cannot thank you half enough
For all you've done for me;
But Christ will give you double pay
When you His glory see."

A few words more, a very few,
Then, with a gentle sigh,
Joe's happy spirit took its flight
To Jesus in the sky.

They laid his body down to rest,
Low in its narrow bed;
A simple stone, with loving hands,
They raised above his head.

Beneath his name they wrote the words
That Joe loved most of all-
" It is not righteous ones I seek,
"Sinners I came to call."

Dear reader, let Joe's simple voice,
Be now addressed to you !
And ask, Have you been born again ?
Have you found Jesus, too ? "


For though you may not be like Joe,
Neglected, poor, and wild;
Yet you have disobeyed God's word,
You are a sinful child.

And nothing but the blood of Christ
Can cleanse away your sin,;
But that will make you pure and white,
And give you peace within.

Oh come to Jesus, come at once,
Dear child-He calls you too;
His arms of love are open wide,
His hand outstretched to you.



HE stood before her mother,
A happy country girl;
She twisted round her finger
A soft brown shining curl;
Her cheeks were red as roses,
Her eye as bright as day,
Her footstep light and buoyant,
Her young life fresh as May.

She flung her hat behind her,
And to her mother drew;
Her bright cheek flushing brighter
With thoughts of something new.


" Mother!" she cried, "just listen,
I've something good to tell:
I think when you have heard it
That it will please you well.

"I've been for a long ramble,
And met with Mary Jane;
We went through waving corn-fields,
And down the shady lane:
And then we sat and rested
Beneath the chestnut-tree,
Where Jane has just been telling
Her future plans to me.

"She's going up to London,
And wishes me to go:
At first I could not bear it,
And quickly told her, 'No !'
But as she further urged it,
I could not fail to see
How very advantageous,
'Twould be for.you and me.

"It's quite time I was helping
To get the daily bread;


You've had too hard a struggle
Since father has been dead:
And now I must be trying
If I can something earn;
Jane says that I am clever,
And anything could learn.

" She's going to a milliner's,
Where they would take me, too;
I know a little of it
From what I've seen her do:
And then in London city
They are so very rich,
They give such handsome wages,
And pay for every stitch.

" She says her eldest sister,
Who went a year ago,
Now sends home lots of money;
How much she does not know.
And so I gave my promise ;-
Dear mother, don't look: sad,
It will be such a comfort,
And ought to make you glad."


" My child! you've not done wisely,"
The mother gently said;
" Nor Mary Jane, for putting
This notion in your head:
But now you must dismiss it;
I cannot let you go;
I fear wouldd lead to trouble,
Perhaps, to want and woe."

"Oh mother, I have promised,"
Was Susan's quick reply;
" I never for a moment
Expected you'd deny:
I'm sure there is no danger
Of either want or woe,
Nor any other trouble-
You please must let me go."

Again the mother answered
With sadness.on her brow,
" We'll wait a little longer-
We have enough just now:
Our Father, God, in mercy,
Does all our need supply;


We need not fear the future,
But still on Him rely.

"You yet are very young, dear,
And need a mother's care;
And in a busy city
I know there's many a snare:
There's many a path of danger,
There's many a tempter near
With words of sin and folly
To whisper in the ear."

" And thus, with fond persuasion,
With wisdom true and kind,
The mother gently reasoned,
And sought to change her mind.
Alas it all was useless, -
She turned a deafened ear
To all her mother's wisdom,-
To all her mother's fear.

She turned away in anger,
And said she meant to go;
She gave to Jane her promise,
And could not now say no.


Unwilling to be guided,
Unwilling to obey,
She thought herself the wiser,
And chose her own wrong way.
S 4: ,
She stood before her mother
A rosy country girl;
Twisting around her finger
A soft brown shining curl;
With hat and jacket fastened,
She near her mother drew;
" Mother she said, "be happy,
I'll soon come back to you.

"I'll write you very often,
And think of all you say;
And read, as you have told me,
My Bible every day;
I soon will send some money,
That you may have more rest: "
Her mother could not answer,
But pressed her to her breast.

Up in her little chamber
Where only One could see,


Before her Heavenly Father
The widow bowed her knee-
" Oh God she cried, in mercy
Look down upon my child,
Beset with snares and dangers,
And wayward, foolish, wild.

"Preserve her from all evil,
Defend her tender youth,
And, by Thy Holy Spirit,
Reveal to her Thy truth.
And should she wander, follow
And bring her to Thy fold;
If slippery paths allure her,
Do Thou her steps uphold !"

Thus day by day the widow
Would kneel alone and pray;
And day by day remember
Her child so far away;
Oft would she yearn to see her,
And fold her in her arms;
Oft would she yearn to shield her
From all the tempter's charms.

Sometimes there came a letter
With news that all was well;
Full of bright future prospects
Which Susan had to tell,-
How she was looking forward
To when she would return,
And make her mother, happy
By what she then would earn.

But as the time passed onward,
There came but very few;
And soon her mother noticed
That each one shorter grew:
Then came a long, long silence,
Week after week passed by;
The widow still kept watching,
With eager, anxious eye.

Yet still there came no tidings
Her aching heart to cheer;
Month after month passed slowly,
And now had gone a year:
Letters came back, unopened,
With just a note to say


They had not heard of Susan,
Since she had gone away.

Then, overwhelmed with sorrow,
And crushed with bitter grief,
No sympathy could soothe her,
She could not find relief;
'Twas only in her chamber
When on her knees she fell,
And to her loving Father
Her tale of woe would tell-

'Twas then she found the promise
So precious and so true,
" Cast on the Lord your trouble,
And He will bring you through.
Wait on the Lord with patience,
Wait on Him still in prayer;
He sees your bitter weeping,
He knows your every care.

"And though He seem to tarry,
It will not be for long;
He soon will turn your sighing
And weeping into song:


The cloud, though dark and heavy,,
Yet does not long remain;
There will be sure to follow
Clear shining after rain."

A few more months passed over;
The wintry snow fell fast,
The wintry wind was blowing
With keen and biting blast;
The day was dull and heavy,
The night was dark and drear,
The heart of the lone widow
Was filled with anxious fear.

All night she lay and trembled,
Starting at every sound;
If she a moment slumbered,
She dreamed her child was found.
Then, with the first grey dawning,
She rose and left her bed,
Though unrefreshed and weary,
And still with aching head.

The daylight brought no gladness,
No joy that New Year's morn;


That day made sixteen birthdays
Since Susan had been born.
Alas how changed were all things
Within those few short years;
Then-all was joy and gladness,
Now-all was grief and tears.

Then peace and love were making
That mother's heart rejoice;
And little ones were hailing
A father's loving voice:
Now all alone in silence
She wipes her weeping eye,
Without a voice to cheer her,
Without a loved one nigh.

But hark she hears a footstep,
And now the postman's knock;
With beating heart she rises
And quickly turns the lock:
She grasped the offered letter
With mingled hope and dread;
She quickly tore it open,
Still standing while she read.


It bid her come to London-
Her child was very ill;
They thought she had been dying,
And was in danger still:
They told her how each hour
They heard her feebly say,
" Oh, mother, dearest mother,
Will you not come to day? "

She lay before her mother
A weak and helpless girl;
Without a tinge of colour,
Without a single curl:
Her eye had lost its brightness,
Her voice its joyous tone;
She looked a faded flower,
All strength and beauty gone.

With footsteps soft and silent
Her mother near her drew;
She heard her gently murmur
"My mother! is it you ? "
Then fondly bending o'er her
She kissed her pallid brow;


"My darling child !" she whispered,
" Thank God, I'm with you now."

She took her place beside her,
And watched her as she lay;
Fearing that every hour
Her life would ebb away:
Her breathing was so quiet,
So very soft and slow;
Her pulse seemed scarcely beating,
It was so very low.

Thus day by day passed over,
Night after night went by;
Death's hand seemed resting on her,
And yet she did not die:
One night she grew quite restless,
And just at break of day
The widow heard her murmur,
" Oh mother, can't you pray ?"

That faint and feeble question
Fell on the widow's ear


Like soft and pleasant music
To calm her anxious fear;
It fell across her pathway
A bright and golden ray,
It roused her from her sorrow-
That whisper, Can't you pray ?"

Her hope and faith reviving,
She knelt beside the bed-
" My God she said, I thank Thee
My child is not yet dead:
And Thou canst now restore her,
Speak, Lord, and she shall live;
Thou Healer of diseases,
Restoring mercy give !"

She thought of how the Saviour
When dwelling here below,
Was full of deep compassion,
For every. tale of woe :
How every kind of sickness
He healed-the blind, the lame,
And how the Scripture tells us
That He is still the same.


He still has the same power
Now at His Father's side;
His loving heart still yearneth
O'er all for whom He died:
He still says, "Bring your helpless-
Your sick ones unto me:
Have faith, and thou shalt surely
My power and goodness see."

She rose, refreshed and strengthened,
Stood still, but did not speak;
She saw that tears were flowing
Down Susan's sunken cheek:
She would not check their flowing,
She would not bid them cease;
They seemed to be the token,
The harbinger of peace.

Then Susan broke the silence,
In accents soft and low
" Mother!" she said, "oh mother,
I've come to want and woe:
I've found out all you told me,
The fruit of my own choice,


Oh that I had obeyed you,
And listened to your voice !

" But I have been so wicked,
So giddy, foolish, wild;
Oh mother, dear, dear mother,
Can you forgive your child ?-
Can you forgive the sorrow,
The trouble, and the pain,
That I have brought upon you,
And love me yet again? "

" My child I have forgiven-
Ask God to do the same;
He hears the feeblest whisper
That's breathed in Jesus' name:
Against Him you have sinned,
His pardon you most need;
Oh, turn at once and seek it,
At once for mercy plead."

" Oh mother," Susan answered,
" Say, can there really be,
The slightest hope of mercy
For one so bad as me ?


Can God on such a sinner
His pardoning grace bestow ?
Can He to one so wretched
His loving-kindness show ?

" No, no, I cannot-dare not,
Expect such.grace as this;
I've lost all claim to favour,
I've lost all hope of bliss:
My sins are great and many,
Their weight I cannot bear;
The thought of such transgressions
Near fills me with despair."

"I know," her mother answered,
"You feel you're lost, undone;
But yet for you there's mercy
Through Jesus, God's dear Son:
It was the lost and ruined
That Jesus came to save;
It was for guilty sinners
His life He freely gave.

"And now He lives to welcome,
And life eternal give,


To all who will receive it,
He says, 'Believe and live! '
He for your sins was punished,
He bore the pain and smart;
Receive this loving Saviour,
By faith into your heart."

She sat beside her mother,
A quiet sober girl;
Her hair was neatly parted
Which once was full of curl:
She sat in thoughtful sadness,
A tear stood in her eye;
The past was stealing o'er her,
The thought of days gone by.

'Twas in her mother's cottage,
Her happy childhood's home;
Brought back through waves of trouble
She wished no more to roam:
She launched upon life's ocean
Alone without a guide;
But listen to her story
Of all that did betide.


" Mother! she said with sadness,
" It's just two years to-day
Since I went up to London,
And turned from you away:
I soon forgot my promise
Which I had made to you;
I soon forgot your counsel,
Your words so wise and true.

" My Bible lay neglected,
I could no pleasure find
In its sweet, sacred pages,
While folly filled my mind :
I found a few companions
Who seemed so blithe and gay;
I yielded to persuasion
And followed them astray.

"They went to balls and parties;
They dressed in clothes so fine,
I soon grew discontented,
And felt ashamed of mine:
But when I spoke about it,
They said it was my fault;


They too were poor as I was,
Till they were better taught.

" They wanted me to join them;
They acted on the stage;
They said I was good-looking
And just the very age:
They promised soon to teach me
All that I ought to know,
If I would pay a trifle;
And so I said I'd go.

" I thought it must be better
To dance, and sing, and play,
Than sitting at my needle,
And sewing all the day:
And so I joined their party,
By subtle snares beguiled;
And, swallowed up in pleasure,
Grew reckless, giddy, wild.

" I very soon was able
To dance, and sing a song;
The waves of sinful pleasure,
Were drifting me along:


On, on, I went, regardless
Of what the end might be;
The love of God, of Jesus,
Was nothing then to me.

" But God in pity stopped me,
And turned my day to night:
He shut me up in darkness,
And then He gave me light:
He played His hand upon me,
And let me fall so low,
That He Himself might raise me,
And all His goodness show.

" And this was how it happened-
One night while at the play,
Where we had gone so merry,
And dressed in clothes so gay,
There rose a cry of 'Fire !'
Then everybody rushed
And tried to make their exit,
And some to death were crushed.

"I had been very sickly
And weak for some time past,


And now, amidst the tumult,
My strength it left me fast;
I fell while in the struggle,
And over me they trod;
I felt my life was going,
And then I thought of God.

" I groaned, and moaned in anguish,
I cried-' I cannot die !'
But none would stop to listen,
They could not hear my cry,
' O God I prayed-' show mercy,'
And then I knew no more;
Unconscious I continued
Till all the rush was o'er.

"Then for a little season
My senses came again;
Just then men came and found me,
I did not long remain :
I told them where to take me,
My lodgings were close by;
I heard them to each other
Say, 'She is sure to die.'


"Again my senses left me,
'Twas little more I knew;
But in my waking hours
My sins were brought to view:
God by His Holy Spirit
Revealed my state of sin;
He opened out before me
The depths of guilt within.

" Despair then took possession,
I could not think or pray;
But for my dearest mother
My spirit yearned each day:
#And then you came and found me
And Jesus found me too;
His Spirit gave you power
To bring Him to my view.

" I saw Him as my Saviour,
While bleeding on the tree;
I saw the risen Jesus,
With hands outstretched to me:
I heard Him kindly saying-
' Come, weary one, come near;


I'll bear your heavy burden,
I'll wipe away each tear.'

" 'Twas Jesus sought and found me,
He took my sins away;
And now I wish to serve Him,
And praise Him every day:
It is His loving-kindness
Has brought me home again;
I'll pray that we, dear mother
Together may remain."



HE old man at his cottage door
Sat all the summer day;
He loved to catch the passing
To feel the sun's warm ray. [breeze,

He loved to hear the merry shout
Of children full of glee;
Or listen to the warbling notes
Of songsters in the tree.

No smiling landscape met his view,
No fields of verdant green;
The rustling leaves, the dancing stream,
Were heard but never seen.


For morning long had ceased to bring
One gleam of golden light;
However bright the sun might rise,
With him 'twas always night.

Yet much he loved those pleasant sounds;
They spoke of days gone by,
When he, could roam o'er hill and dale,
And gaze with undimmed eye.

He often lived his life again,
As he sat dreaming there;
And smiles would linger on his face,
Or shades of anxious care.

When young lads shouted in their games
As once he used to do;
He fancied he was young again,
And laughed and shouted too.

And when the bells chimed merrily
To greet a happy pair; [bride
He thought how once his own young
He led with loving care.

01.1) W\V1L1.V.

And then his thoughts would wander or,
And he would once more be
Surrounded by a little troop
Of climbers on his knee.

His merry, laughing, noisy Tom,
With hair as black as jet;
His little May, with flaxen curls,
And eyes so calmly set.

And George stood by-his mother's pride,
So thoughtful, kind, and true;
And giddy Jane, just in her teens,
With cooing baby too.

Again that dream would pass away,
And now the tolling bell
Another scene would call to mind-
A. sadder tale would tell.

Beside a newly-opened grave
He'd stand with drooping head;
And see them lower, one by one,
His loved enes who were dead.


The first one who was lowered thus,
Was fair-haired little May,
Who sweetly bloomed for fifteen years,
Then faded in a day.

Then George came next-the mother's
Who said he wished to die; [boy,
He loved his Saviour, and would go
To dwell with Him on high.

At Sunday-school he learned the truth,
That Jesus came from heaven,
And bled and died upon the cross,
That we might be forgiven.

Then followed Jane who, all believed,
Would live for many a year;
So strong and healthy she had grown,
None thought that death was near.

It was the fever laid her low;
And just before she died
She called her loving mother near,
To come close to her side.


" Mother 1 she said, I'm going home:
'Tis Jesus calls for me;
I long His glory to behold,
His lovely face to see.

"George taught me how to die, mother,
I do not feel afraid;
His Saviour is my Saviour too,
He guides me through the shade.

"And soon you'll join me, mother dear,
And father must come too;
I know my Saviour will prepare
A happy place for you."

Then baby died,-and after that
His wife drooped every day;
And soon beneath the yew-tree's shade
She with her children lay.

And now they all are sleeping there,
Low in that narrow bed;
To rise again when Jesus comes
To call them from the dead.


One, only one, was left alive,
And he had gone to sea
Some years ago,-'twas merry Tor..
A sailor-boy would be.

And then Old Willy's thoughts would
To news he once received, [turn
Which said that Tom was lost at sea,
But this he ne'er believed.

He still looked forward to the day
When Tom would cease to roam
A stranger in a stranger's land,
So far away from home.

Thus Willy, at his cottage door,
Sat all the summer day,
Recalling visions of the past,
Dreaming his life away.

'Twas always past or present things
Which occupied his mind;
In thinking of the days to come,
He could no comfort find.


No shining pathway could he see
Leading to realms of light;
No vision of that happy land
Dawned on his mental sight.

The Saviour whom his children loved,
To him was still unknown;
The faith that cheered their dying hours
Had ne'er been made his own.

Far from the blessed fold of God,
A wanderer all his days,
Not walking in the paths of peace,
Nor learning wisdom's ways.

And now, unaided and alone,
He's drawing near the grave;
Without a hope beyond the tomb,
Without an arm to save.

But He who left His Father's side
To seek poor wandering sheep,
Who, when He saw our ruined state,
Did tears of pity weep-


He pitied this poor lonely one,
And'sent a little child,
Who spake with loving, lisping tongue,
Of Jesus, meek and mild.

'Twas Nelly White, a neighbour's child
Whose parents served the Lord,
And taught her in her infant days,
To love His Holy Word.

He soon began to love the child,
And often used to say
He thought his darling had come back,
His fair-haired little May.

She'd climb his knee and stroke his face,
And then proceed to tell
The simple tale of Jesus' love,
Which she had learnt so well.

"Daddy i she'd say, "'twas God's own
Who died for \ ;:.i and me; ,[Son
How kind of God to let Him come-
How kind must Jesus be! "


" He was not sinful like we are,
But holy, pure and good;
Yet when they brought Him forth to die
Just like a lamb He stood.

"We did the sin and ought to die,
But Jesus said 'Ah, no!
I'll die myself, instead of them'-
You see He loved us so.

"And so He died, but from the dead
He rose, and took His place
At God's right hand, where now He lives
To show His saving grace."

Another time, this little child
Her book of hymns would bring,
" Now," she would say, you sit awhile
And listen while I sing.

" I'll sing, I am a little child,
But Jesus died for me;
And if I love Him I' shall reign
With Him eternally.'


" I love to hear the little birds
Attune their notes with glee;
But still I better love the song
That 'Jesus died for me.'

" I love to think of angels' songs,
From sin and sorrow free;
IBut angels cannot strike their notes
To 'Jesus died for me.'

' Another one I love so much,
'There is a happy land;'
And 'Round the throne of God in heaven
Thousands of children stand.' "

'Thus would she warble forth her song,
In notes so sweet and clear,
whilee down Old Willy's furrowed cheek
Ofttimes would roll a tear.

And gently as the morning dew
Descends with softening power,
Gently as morning light dispels
The gloom of midnight's hour-


So softly, silently, arose
The Spirit's light within,
Recalling to his startled soul
His state of guilt and sin.

He saw how black his nature was,
Beneath that searching light;
He saw how sinful sin appears
In God's most holy sight.

He saw that nothing he could do
Would for his guilt atone;
That nought could cleanse away his sin
But Jesus' blood alone.

Helpless and humbled as a child,
At Jesus' feet he fell;
And who can speak the-Saviour's grace ?
SHis kindness who can tell ?

Christ spoke to him in loving tones,
He said, Look unto Me,
I bore the curse for guilty man;
I died to set you free."


"Look and be saved, believe and live,
Thy faith shall make thee whole;"
He looked, believed, and sweetest peace
Soon calmed his troubled soul.

And now his night was changed to day,
His darkness all had fled;
The Sun of Righteousness arose
In glory o'er his head.

He now could join in Nelly's song
That "Jesus died for me; "
A brighter home above this world
He now by faith could see.

But summer days, however bright,
Will quickly pass away;
Willy no longer sought the breeze,
Nor the sun's warming ray.

ThI.. litl- birds had ceased their song,
The children's merry shout
Was seldom heard-for little feet
Could scarcely venture out.


The snow lay heavy on the ground,
The days were dark and cold;
Stern winter's icy touch was felt
Alike by young and old.

But Willy felt its withering touch
As ne'er he had before;
And soon upon his humble bed,
He lay to rise no more.

And still beside the aged one
Kept little Nelly White-
A sunbeam in that little room,
A ray of heavenly light.

" It is not dark," he used to say,
When you, my child, are near;
I praise the Lord for sending you
An old man's heart to cheer.

"Now come and sing that sweetest song,
'It is my only plea:'
The one that says in every verse
That 'Jesus died for me.'


"Soon, soon I'll see His lovely face,
And then with ecstasy,
I'll shout with songs of joyous praise
That 'Jesus died for me.'

"Now get your book, my darling child,
And read the verses where
It says the Saviour's gone above
A mansion to prepare.

"There, that will do; I'm weary now,
And wish to sleep awhile:"
He turned toward the little one
With sweet and heavenly smile.

He stretched his hands to where she
And placed them on her head; [stood,
' May richest blessings from above
Be on your pathway shed !

May He who takes the little lambs,
And bears them in His arm,
Defend, protect, and shelter you
From all approach of harm "


Then, overcome by weariness,
He gently fell asleep;
And Widow Jones said through the night
She by his side would keep.

He calmly slept till midnight hour,
Then feebly turned his head :
The widow hastened to his side
With soft and gentle tread.

She took his hand, and heard him say,
In whisper soft and low,
" He's come to fetch me, Nelly, dear!
Jesus has told me so."

Then gathering up his waning strength,
He cried, It is not night;
Far brighter than the midday sun,
'Tis all about me light !

" I am not blind-no, surely no,
For, Nelly, I can see
The One who's come to fetch me home-
'Jesus who died for me! '


" He's coming nearer, nearer still,
I hear Him now say, Come !'
My bonds are loose, my soul is free,
I'm going, going home."

All, all is still in that small room;
He spoke, he breathed no more;
To heaven's eternal home of light
Jesus his spirit bore.

And there, with all the happy thronf
From sin and sorrow free,
He still delights to sing aloud,
That Jesus died for me."



WAs a beautiful, beautiful, sight
That noble ship to sec [indeed,
So proudly ride, o'er the river's
Away to the deep blue sea. [tide,

A miniature world she seemed to be,
As we gazed on her crowded deck;
But she sailed away, in the light of day,
And was soon but a tiny speck.

Grandly she breasted each rising wave,
Swan-like she floated along,
So calmly at home, on the billowy foam;
No sound but the ocean's s.ng.


All on board outward bound to some
distant shore,
With prospects so fair and high;
They thought not of fear, no danger
seemed near,
No cloud on their brilliant sky. .

'Twas a terrible, terrible sight, indeed,
That noble ship to see,
'Neath a blackened sky, in a tempest high,
Tossed about on a boiling sea.

Dark, dark is the gloom that has
gathered around
The ship, in that hour of fear;
The wild waves dash, with a fearful
And no safety or succour is near.

She reels to and fro like a drunken man,
She staggers and sinks from sight,
Then rises again, o'er the billowy main,
And is borne to a mountain height.


Again she is plunged many fathoms
Huge waters break over her head;
Her fine, gallant mast is splintering fast,
As she heaves on her watery bed.

"All hands to the pump but, alas! 'tis
in vain,
The water still forces its way;
While faces grow pale, and lusty hearts
As quench d is hope's last feeble ray.

"We are lost.! we are lost! is the
agonised cry;
"No hope of deliverance we see;
No daring can save from a watery grave,
And the rage of that passionate sea "

Some cling to each other in death-like
embrace ;
Some turn to their God in prayer;
Some, dreading to die, despairingly cry
For mercy to dawn on them there. .


'Twas a beautiful, beautiful sight, indeed,
One gentle young damsel to see,
So free from alarm, so fearless of harm,
As she gazed on that fierce raging sea.

She saw death approaching, but felt no
Death's sting had been taken away;
The Saviour had died, and on Him she
For comfort and strength in that day.

With faith's upward look she could
pierce through the gloom,
And see the bright glories on high-
On that heavenly shore, where storms
rage no more,
Where clouds never blacken the sky.

She saw some preparing the long-boat
to fill,
For now they were foundering fast;
Then quickly she wrote a short, simple
And gave it to one as he passed. [note,


" Don't fre, dearest mother," this message
she sent,
" With Jesus I quickly shall be ;
A haven of rest I have found on His breast,
My Saviour is waiting for me."

'Twas a sorrowful, sorrowful sight,
In that fast drowning ship to see
A poor creature there, giving way to
So unready for death was she.

The storm raged around, but alas! alas!
Greater restlessness struggled within;
No calm quiet rest was found in her
No assurance of pardon for sin.

She, too, saw the boat then just pushing
And eagerly, wildly, she craved, [away,
"Stop stop rest your oars; all I have
shall be yours,
If only my life may be saved !"


But ah no they cannot, they dare not
" Too late i was the only reply:
Oh, bitter the smart, as those words
pierced her heart!
Loud, loud was her pitiful cry!

A few fathoms off from the wreck they
have pulled,
When all of a sudden they see,
With sorrow and fear, the ship dis-
Down, down in the dark surging sea.

The waters close o'er her, the wild waves
roll on,
The wind still speeds over the main,
But hushed.are the cries that rose to the
They ne'er will be uttered again.. .

Oh turn to the Saviour while yet there
is time,
You are all on the way to the grave;


To-day Jesus stands, with outstretched
Both able and willing to save.

Ah, slight not His mercy, despise not
His grace,
The great day of wrath draweth near;
And then, in your woe, to whom will
you go ?
To whom will you turn in your fear ?

It may be that to-day your sky is serene,
And your hopes may be joyous and
But to-morrow may come with a
threatening doom,
And destroy all your prospects by night.

Oh look, then, to Jesus! look, look to
Him now!
Remember He died on the tree;
For sins not His own He came to atone,
And to send down His Spirit to thee.


And he that believeth shall surely be
The way is made open to all-
Salvation from sin, and God's Spirit
For those who on Jesus now call.

Then why do you linger when danger is
And a free invitation is given ?
The blessing so true is offered to you:
Reject not the mercy of Heaven.


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