Illustration: Letter I.If I resolve, with the new year,A better child to be,'Twill do no good at all, I fear,But rather harm to me,Unless I try, with every day,No angry word to speak;Unless, each morn, to God I prayTo keep me mild and meek.Then let me try with all my might,And may God help me too,Always to choose the way that's right,Whatever act I do.
Illustration: Letter I.If I resolve, with the new year,A better child to be,'Twill do no good at all, I fear,But rather harm to me,Unless I try, with every day,No angry word to speak;Unless, each morn, to God I prayTo keep me mild and meek.Then let me try with all my might,And may God help me too,Always to choose the way that's right,Whatever act I do.
Illustration: Letter I.
If I resolve, with the new year,A better child to be,'Twill do no good at all, I fear,But rather harm to me,Unless I try, with every day,No angry word to speak;Unless, each morn, to God I prayTo keep me mild and meek.Then let me try with all my might,And may God help me too,Always to choose the way that's right,Whatever act I do.
If I resolve, with the new year,A better child to be,'Twill do no good at all, I fear,But rather harm to me,
If I resolve, with the new year,
A better child to be,
'Twill do no good at all, I fear,
But rather harm to me,
Unless I try, with every day,No angry word to speak;Unless, each morn, to God I prayTo keep me mild and meek.
Unless I try, with every day,
No angry word to speak;
Unless, each morn, to God I pray
To keep me mild and meek.
Then let me try with all my might,And may God help me too,Always to choose the way that's right,Whatever act I do.
Then let me try with all my might,
And may God help me too,
Always to choose the way that's right,
Whatever act I do.
Illustration: Letter G.God has kept me, dearest mother.Kindly, safely, through the day:Let me thank Him for His goodness,Ere the twilight fades away.For my home and friends I thank Him,For my father, mother dear;For the hills, the trees, the flowers,And the sky so bright and clear.If I have been kind and gentle,If I've spoken what was true,Or if I've been cross and selfish,He has seen and known it, too.Those I love He will watch over,Though they may be far away,For he loves good little children,And will hear the words they say.
Illustration: Letter G.God has kept me, dearest mother.Kindly, safely, through the day:Let me thank Him for His goodness,Ere the twilight fades away.For my home and friends I thank Him,For my father, mother dear;For the hills, the trees, the flowers,And the sky so bright and clear.If I have been kind and gentle,If I've spoken what was true,Or if I've been cross and selfish,He has seen and known it, too.Those I love He will watch over,Though they may be far away,For he loves good little children,And will hear the words they say.
Illustration: Letter G.
God has kept me, dearest mother.Kindly, safely, through the day:Let me thank Him for His goodness,Ere the twilight fades away.For my home and friends I thank Him,For my father, mother dear;For the hills, the trees, the flowers,And the sky so bright and clear.If I have been kind and gentle,If I've spoken what was true,Or if I've been cross and selfish,He has seen and known it, too.Those I love He will watch over,Though they may be far away,For he loves good little children,And will hear the words they say.
God has kept me, dearest mother.Kindly, safely, through the day:Let me thank Him for His goodness,Ere the twilight fades away.
God has kept me, dearest mother.
Kindly, safely, through the day:
Let me thank Him for His goodness,
Ere the twilight fades away.
For my home and friends I thank Him,For my father, mother dear;For the hills, the trees, the flowers,And the sky so bright and clear.
For my home and friends I thank Him,
For my father, mother dear;
For the hills, the trees, the flowers,
And the sky so bright and clear.
If I have been kind and gentle,If I've spoken what was true,Or if I've been cross and selfish,He has seen and known it, too.
If I have been kind and gentle,
If I've spoken what was true,
Or if I've been cross and selfish,
He has seen and known it, too.
Those I love He will watch over,Though they may be far away,For he loves good little children,And will hear the words they say.
Those I love He will watch over,
Though they may be far away,
For he loves good little children,
And will hear the words they say.
Illustration.Illustration: Letter O."O George! how large your bubble is!Its colors, too, how bright!Just like the rainbow that we sawOn high, the other night."Now throw it off, and let it floatLike fairies in the air!It's broken, Georgie; never mind,But blow another there."Their mother, just within the door,Smiled at their childish play,—A smile, but yet a thoughtful one,That seemed these words to say:"My little Georgie, bubbles burst,And are but empty air;I would that you might love the thingsThat last forever fair."And ever may my darling KateA trusting spirit bear,And, when one cherished hope has fled,Yet find another there."Illustration.
Illustration.Illustration: Letter O."O George! how large your bubble is!Its colors, too, how bright!Just like the rainbow that we sawOn high, the other night."Now throw it off, and let it floatLike fairies in the air!It's broken, Georgie; never mind,But blow another there."Their mother, just within the door,Smiled at their childish play,—A smile, but yet a thoughtful one,That seemed these words to say:"My little Georgie, bubbles burst,And are but empty air;I would that you might love the thingsThat last forever fair."And ever may my darling KateA trusting spirit bear,And, when one cherished hope has fled,Yet find another there."Illustration.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter O.
"O George! how large your bubble is!Its colors, too, how bright!Just like the rainbow that we sawOn high, the other night."Now throw it off, and let it floatLike fairies in the air!It's broken, Georgie; never mind,But blow another there."Their mother, just within the door,Smiled at their childish play,—A smile, but yet a thoughtful one,That seemed these words to say:"My little Georgie, bubbles burst,And are but empty air;I would that you might love the thingsThat last forever fair."And ever may my darling KateA trusting spirit bear,And, when one cherished hope has fled,Yet find another there."
"O George! how large your bubble is!Its colors, too, how bright!Just like the rainbow that we sawOn high, the other night.
"O George! how large your bubble is!
Its colors, too, how bright!
Just like the rainbow that we saw
On high, the other night.
"Now throw it off, and let it floatLike fairies in the air!It's broken, Georgie; never mind,But blow another there."
"Now throw it off, and let it float
Like fairies in the air!
It's broken, Georgie; never mind,
But blow another there."
Their mother, just within the door,Smiled at their childish play,—A smile, but yet a thoughtful one,That seemed these words to say:
Their mother, just within the door,
Smiled at their childish play,—
A smile, but yet a thoughtful one,
That seemed these words to say:
"My little Georgie, bubbles burst,And are but empty air;I would that you might love the thingsThat last forever fair.
"My little Georgie, bubbles burst,
And are but empty air;
I would that you might love the things
That last forever fair.
"And ever may my darling KateA trusting spirit bear,And, when one cherished hope has fled,Yet find another there."
"And ever may my darling Kate
A trusting spirit bear,
And, when one cherished hope has fled,
Yet find another there."
Illustration.
Illustration.I am coming, I am coming,With my carpet soft and green;I have spread it o'er the common,And a prettier ne'er was seen.Soon I'll spangle it with clover,And the dandelions bright;You shall pick them in your aprons,Yellow, red, and snowy white.I am coming, and the tree-tops,That all winter were so bare,You shall see, with small leaves covered,Wave their branches in the air.I am coming! Little children,Can you tell me who am I?If not, you will soon remember,For I'm just now passing by.Illustration.
Illustration.I am coming, I am coming,With my carpet soft and green;I have spread it o'er the common,And a prettier ne'er was seen.Soon I'll spangle it with clover,And the dandelions bright;You shall pick them in your aprons,Yellow, red, and snowy white.I am coming, and the tree-tops,That all winter were so bare,You shall see, with small leaves covered,Wave their branches in the air.I am coming! Little children,Can you tell me who am I?If not, you will soon remember,For I'm just now passing by.Illustration.
Illustration.
I am coming, I am coming,With my carpet soft and green;I have spread it o'er the common,And a prettier ne'er was seen.Soon I'll spangle it with clover,And the dandelions bright;You shall pick them in your aprons,Yellow, red, and snowy white.I am coming, and the tree-tops,That all winter were so bare,You shall see, with small leaves covered,Wave their branches in the air.I am coming! Little children,Can you tell me who am I?If not, you will soon remember,For I'm just now passing by.
I am coming, I am coming,With my carpet soft and green;I have spread it o'er the common,And a prettier ne'er was seen.
I am coming, I am coming,
With my carpet soft and green;
I have spread it o'er the common,
And a prettier ne'er was seen.
Soon I'll spangle it with clover,And the dandelions bright;You shall pick them in your aprons,Yellow, red, and snowy white.
Soon I'll spangle it with clover,
And the dandelions bright;
You shall pick them in your aprons,
Yellow, red, and snowy white.
I am coming, and the tree-tops,That all winter were so bare,You shall see, with small leaves covered,Wave their branches in the air.
I am coming, and the tree-tops,
That all winter were so bare,
You shall see, with small leaves covered,
Wave their branches in the air.
I am coming! Little children,Can you tell me who am I?If not, you will soon remember,For I'm just now passing by.
I am coming! Little children,
Can you tell me who am I?
If not, you will soon remember,
For I'm just now passing by.
Illustration.
Illustration.Illustration: Letter T.Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky;By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie;And more than all these, by the lovely wild roseThat now in the woodland its pink blossom shows.Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day,And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay;They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done,And singing come home with the set of the sun.I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheekAs I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak;And then in the twilight I see the faint sparkOf the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark.Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delightTo roam in the meadows from morning till night!Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away,For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to stay.Illustration.
Illustration.Illustration: Letter T.Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky;By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie;And more than all these, by the lovely wild roseThat now in the woodland its pink blossom shows.Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day,And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay;They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done,And singing come home with the set of the sun.I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheekAs I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak;And then in the twilight I see the faint sparkOf the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark.Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delightTo roam in the meadows from morning till night!Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away,For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to stay.Illustration.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter T.
Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky;By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie;And more than all these, by the lovely wild roseThat now in the woodland its pink blossom shows.Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day,And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay;They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done,And singing come home with the set of the sun.I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheekAs I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak;And then in the twilight I see the faint sparkOf the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark.Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delightTo roam in the meadows from morning till night!Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away,For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to stay.
Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky;By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie;And more than all these, by the lovely wild roseThat now in the woodland its pink blossom shows.
Tis Summer, I know by the blue of the sky;
By the trees' deeper green, as beneath them I lie;
And more than all these, by the lovely wild rose
That now in the woodland its pink blossom shows.
Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day,And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay;They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done,And singing come home with the set of the sun.
Now ring the sharp scythes of the mowers all day,
And they spread to the air the sweet-scented hay;
They pile up the wagon ere daylight is done,
And singing come home with the set of the sun.
I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheekAs I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak;And then in the twilight I see the faint sparkOf the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark.
I feel the warm west wind fan gently my cheek
As I sit on the grass, far too happy to speak;
And then in the twilight I see the faint spark
Of the fire-fly, flitting alone in the dark.
Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delightTo roam in the meadows from morning till night!Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away,For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to stay.
Oh! long happy days, when 'tis full of delight
To roam in the meadows from morning till night!
Oh! summer, sweet summer! glide slowly away,
For I love in your warmth and your fragrance to stay.
Illustration.
Illustration.Here's the purple aster,And the golden-rod,And the blue fringed gentian,By the meadow sod.And the scarlet cardinalGrows beside the brook,And the yellow sunflowerIn some sheltered nook.Maple boughs are coveredWith their foliage red,And the withered elm leavesOn the ground lie dead.And within the orchard,Heavy-laden treesShower down the apples,With each passing breeze.So by these we know thee,Lovely autumn time,With thy deep blue heavens,And thy snowy rime.And we gladly greet thee,With thy colors gay,Though thou tell'st us summerHence hath fled away.
Illustration.Here's the purple aster,And the golden-rod,And the blue fringed gentian,By the meadow sod.And the scarlet cardinalGrows beside the brook,And the yellow sunflowerIn some sheltered nook.Maple boughs are coveredWith their foliage red,And the withered elm leavesOn the ground lie dead.And within the orchard,Heavy-laden treesShower down the apples,With each passing breeze.So by these we know thee,Lovely autumn time,With thy deep blue heavens,And thy snowy rime.And we gladly greet thee,With thy colors gay,Though thou tell'st us summerHence hath fled away.
Illustration.
Here's the purple aster,And the golden-rod,And the blue fringed gentian,By the meadow sod.And the scarlet cardinalGrows beside the brook,And the yellow sunflowerIn some sheltered nook.Maple boughs are coveredWith their foliage red,And the withered elm leavesOn the ground lie dead.And within the orchard,Heavy-laden treesShower down the apples,With each passing breeze.So by these we know thee,Lovely autumn time,With thy deep blue heavens,And thy snowy rime.And we gladly greet thee,With thy colors gay,Though thou tell'st us summerHence hath fled away.
Here's the purple aster,And the golden-rod,And the blue fringed gentian,By the meadow sod.
Here's the purple aster,
And the golden-rod,
And the blue fringed gentian,
By the meadow sod.
And the scarlet cardinalGrows beside the brook,And the yellow sunflowerIn some sheltered nook.
And the scarlet cardinal
Grows beside the brook,
And the yellow sunflower
In some sheltered nook.
Maple boughs are coveredWith their foliage red,And the withered elm leavesOn the ground lie dead.
Maple boughs are covered
With their foliage red,
And the withered elm leaves
On the ground lie dead.
And within the orchard,Heavy-laden treesShower down the apples,With each passing breeze.
And within the orchard,
Heavy-laden trees
Shower down the apples,
With each passing breeze.
So by these we know thee,Lovely autumn time,With thy deep blue heavens,And thy snowy rime.
So by these we know thee,
Lovely autumn time,
With thy deep blue heavens,
And thy snowy rime.
And we gladly greet thee,With thy colors gay,Though thou tell'st us summerHence hath fled away.
And we gladly greet thee,
With thy colors gay,
Though thou tell'st us summer
Hence hath fled away.
Illustration.With my breath so keen and chilling,I have stripped the branches bare;And my snow-flakes white are filling,Feather-like, the frosty air.Coming o'er the lofty mountains,There I left a robe of white;I have locked the sparkling fountains,I have chained the river bright.O'er the quiet valley winging,There I left my traces, too;Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing,With their music call on you.I have come! The school-boy shouting,Joyfully brings out his sled;He has seen me, nothing doubting,As across the fields he sped.I have come; but shall I find youBetter than the former year?If you've cast your faults behind you,I shall gladly greet you here.Illustration.
Illustration.With my breath so keen and chilling,I have stripped the branches bare;And my snow-flakes white are filling,Feather-like, the frosty air.Coming o'er the lofty mountains,There I left a robe of white;I have locked the sparkling fountains,I have chained the river bright.O'er the quiet valley winging,There I left my traces, too;Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing,With their music call on you.I have come! The school-boy shouting,Joyfully brings out his sled;He has seen me, nothing doubting,As across the fields he sped.I have come; but shall I find youBetter than the former year?If you've cast your faults behind you,I shall gladly greet you here.Illustration.
Illustration.
With my breath so keen and chilling,I have stripped the branches bare;And my snow-flakes white are filling,Feather-like, the frosty air.Coming o'er the lofty mountains,There I left a robe of white;I have locked the sparkling fountains,I have chained the river bright.O'er the quiet valley winging,There I left my traces, too;Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing,With their music call on you.I have come! The school-boy shouting,Joyfully brings out his sled;He has seen me, nothing doubting,As across the fields he sped.I have come; but shall I find youBetter than the former year?If you've cast your faults behind you,I shall gladly greet you here.
With my breath so keen and chilling,I have stripped the branches bare;And my snow-flakes white are filling,Feather-like, the frosty air.
With my breath so keen and chilling,
I have stripped the branches bare;
And my snow-flakes white are filling,
Feather-like, the frosty air.
Coming o'er the lofty mountains,There I left a robe of white;I have locked the sparkling fountains,I have chained the river bright.
Coming o'er the lofty mountains,
There I left a robe of white;
I have locked the sparkling fountains,
I have chained the river bright.
O'er the quiet valley winging,There I left my traces, too;Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing,With their music call on you.
O'er the quiet valley winging,
There I left my traces, too;
Hark! the merry sleigh-bells ringing,
With their music call on you.
I have come! The school-boy shouting,Joyfully brings out his sled;He has seen me, nothing doubting,As across the fields he sped.
I have come! The school-boy shouting,
Joyfully brings out his sled;
He has seen me, nothing doubting,
As across the fields he sped.
I have come; but shall I find youBetter than the former year?If you've cast your faults behind you,I shall gladly greet you here.
I have come; but shall I find you
Better than the former year?
If you've cast your faults behind you,
I shall gladly greet you here.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter G.Give us this day our daily bread;Oh! children, when you pray,And morn and night repeat these words,Think what it is you say.You never asked a piece of bread,And had that wish denied;For food to eat, and some to spare,Has always been supplied.But o'er the ocean, many a cheekWith want grows thin and pale;And many suffer like the boyOf whom I tell this tale.He lay upon some scattered straw,—His strength was almost gone,—And, in a feeble voice, he cried,"Give me three grains of corn!"Three grains from out his jacket torn,His trembling mother drew,'Twas all she had—she gave them him,Though she was starving too!Be very grateful, children, then,For all that you enjoy;Remembering, as you say those words,The little Irish boy.Illustration.
Illustration: Letter G.Give us this day our daily bread;Oh! children, when you pray,And morn and night repeat these words,Think what it is you say.You never asked a piece of bread,And had that wish denied;For food to eat, and some to spare,Has always been supplied.But o'er the ocean, many a cheekWith want grows thin and pale;And many suffer like the boyOf whom I tell this tale.He lay upon some scattered straw,—His strength was almost gone,—And, in a feeble voice, he cried,"Give me three grains of corn!"Three grains from out his jacket torn,His trembling mother drew,'Twas all she had—she gave them him,Though she was starving too!Be very grateful, children, then,For all that you enjoy;Remembering, as you say those words,The little Irish boy.Illustration.
Illustration: Letter G.
Give us this day our daily bread;Oh! children, when you pray,And morn and night repeat these words,Think what it is you say.You never asked a piece of bread,And had that wish denied;For food to eat, and some to spare,Has always been supplied.But o'er the ocean, many a cheekWith want grows thin and pale;And many suffer like the boyOf whom I tell this tale.He lay upon some scattered straw,—His strength was almost gone,—And, in a feeble voice, he cried,"Give me three grains of corn!"Three grains from out his jacket torn,His trembling mother drew,'Twas all she had—she gave them him,Though she was starving too!Be very grateful, children, then,For all that you enjoy;Remembering, as you say those words,The little Irish boy.
Give us this day our daily bread;Oh! children, when you pray,And morn and night repeat these words,Think what it is you say.
Give us this day our daily bread;
Oh! children, when you pray,
And morn and night repeat these words,
Think what it is you say.
You never asked a piece of bread,And had that wish denied;For food to eat, and some to spare,Has always been supplied.
You never asked a piece of bread,
And had that wish denied;
For food to eat, and some to spare,
Has always been supplied.
But o'er the ocean, many a cheekWith want grows thin and pale;And many suffer like the boyOf whom I tell this tale.
But o'er the ocean, many a cheek
With want grows thin and pale;
And many suffer like the boy
Of whom I tell this tale.
He lay upon some scattered straw,—His strength was almost gone,—And, in a feeble voice, he cried,"Give me three grains of corn!"
He lay upon some scattered straw,—
His strength was almost gone,—
And, in a feeble voice, he cried,
"Give me three grains of corn!"
Three grains from out his jacket torn,His trembling mother drew,'Twas all she had—she gave them him,Though she was starving too!
Three grains from out his jacket torn,
His trembling mother drew,
'Twas all she had—she gave them him,
Though she was starving too!
Be very grateful, children, then,For all that you enjoy;Remembering, as you say those words,The little Irish boy.
Be very grateful, children, then,
For all that you enjoy;
Remembering, as you say those words,
The little Irish boy.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter T."They tell me in a sunny landOur Willie is at play;And with him is a happy bandOf children, good and gay."They say their shining robes of whiteAre free from spot or stain;That there, where it is never night,They feel no grief or pain."But Willie shunned the stranger's face,When he was with us here;And in that new, though lovely place,He will be sad, I fear."He'll miss me,—though the fields are fair,His bright eyes will grow dim;He has no little sister there;O let me go to him!""Our Willie is not sad, my child;For in that heavenly homeThere dwells the blessed Saviour mild,Who bids the children come."He loves them with a purer love,A holier, than ours;And leads them in the fields above,Where spring undying flowers."If no ungentle words you speak,No wicked actions do,And if, with every day, you seekTo be more kind and true,"Then, by our darling Willie's side,And joined in heart and hand,Forevermore shall you abide,Among the angel band."
Illustration: Letter T."They tell me in a sunny landOur Willie is at play;And with him is a happy bandOf children, good and gay."They say their shining robes of whiteAre free from spot or stain;That there, where it is never night,They feel no grief or pain."But Willie shunned the stranger's face,When he was with us here;And in that new, though lovely place,He will be sad, I fear."He'll miss me,—though the fields are fair,His bright eyes will grow dim;He has no little sister there;O let me go to him!""Our Willie is not sad, my child;For in that heavenly homeThere dwells the blessed Saviour mild,Who bids the children come."He loves them with a purer love,A holier, than ours;And leads them in the fields above,Where spring undying flowers."If no ungentle words you speak,No wicked actions do,And if, with every day, you seekTo be more kind and true,"Then, by our darling Willie's side,And joined in heart and hand,Forevermore shall you abide,Among the angel band."
Illustration: Letter T.
"They tell me in a sunny landOur Willie is at play;And with him is a happy bandOf children, good and gay."They say their shining robes of whiteAre free from spot or stain;That there, where it is never night,They feel no grief or pain."But Willie shunned the stranger's face,When he was with us here;And in that new, though lovely place,He will be sad, I fear."He'll miss me,—though the fields are fair,His bright eyes will grow dim;He has no little sister there;O let me go to him!""Our Willie is not sad, my child;For in that heavenly homeThere dwells the blessed Saviour mild,Who bids the children come."He loves them with a purer love,A holier, than ours;And leads them in the fields above,Where spring undying flowers."If no ungentle words you speak,No wicked actions do,And if, with every day, you seekTo be more kind and true,"Then, by our darling Willie's side,And joined in heart and hand,Forevermore shall you abide,Among the angel band."
"They tell me in a sunny landOur Willie is at play;And with him is a happy bandOf children, good and gay.
"They tell me in a sunny land
Our Willie is at play;
And with him is a happy band
Of children, good and gay.
"They say their shining robes of whiteAre free from spot or stain;That there, where it is never night,They feel no grief or pain.
"They say their shining robes of white
Are free from spot or stain;
That there, where it is never night,
They feel no grief or pain.
"But Willie shunned the stranger's face,When he was with us here;And in that new, though lovely place,He will be sad, I fear.
"But Willie shunned the stranger's face,
When he was with us here;
And in that new, though lovely place,
He will be sad, I fear.
"He'll miss me,—though the fields are fair,His bright eyes will grow dim;He has no little sister there;O let me go to him!"
"He'll miss me,—though the fields are fair,
His bright eyes will grow dim;
He has no little sister there;
O let me go to him!"
"Our Willie is not sad, my child;For in that heavenly homeThere dwells the blessed Saviour mild,Who bids the children come.
"Our Willie is not sad, my child;
For in that heavenly home
There dwells the blessed Saviour mild,
Who bids the children come.
"He loves them with a purer love,A holier, than ours;And leads them in the fields above,Where spring undying flowers.
"He loves them with a purer love,
A holier, than ours;
And leads them in the fields above,
Where spring undying flowers.
"If no ungentle words you speak,No wicked actions do,And if, with every day, you seekTo be more kind and true,
"If no ungentle words you speak,
No wicked actions do,
And if, with every day, you seek
To be more kind and true,
"Then, by our darling Willie's side,And joined in heart and hand,Forevermore shall you abide,Among the angel band."
"Then, by our darling Willie's side,
And joined in heart and hand,
Forevermore shall you abide,
Among the angel band."
Illustration: Letter W."Where are the angels, mother?Though you have often saidThey watched at night around me,And safely kept my bed;"Though every night I listenTheir voices low to hear,Yet I have never heard them,—Where are they, mother dear?"And when the silver moonshineFills all my room with light,And when the stars are shining,So countless and so bright."I hope to see them coming,With their fair forms, to me;Yet I have never seen them,—Mother, where can they be?"I saw a cloud, this evening,Red with the setting sun;It was so very lovely,I thought it might be one."But when it faded slowly,I knew it could not be,For they are always shining;Why come they not to me?""My child, when through your windowShines down the moonlight clear,—When all is still and silent,And no kind friend is near,—"Are you not glad and happy,And full of thoughts of love?Do you not think of heaven.That brighter land above?"These thoughts the angels bring you;And though the gentle toneOf their sweet voices comes notWhen you are all alone;"Yet they are always leaving,For earth, their homes on high;And though you cannot see them,You feel that they are nigh."
Illustration: Letter W."Where are the angels, mother?Though you have often saidThey watched at night around me,And safely kept my bed;"Though every night I listenTheir voices low to hear,Yet I have never heard them,—Where are they, mother dear?"And when the silver moonshineFills all my room with light,And when the stars are shining,So countless and so bright."I hope to see them coming,With their fair forms, to me;Yet I have never seen them,—Mother, where can they be?"I saw a cloud, this evening,Red with the setting sun;It was so very lovely,I thought it might be one."But when it faded slowly,I knew it could not be,For they are always shining;Why come they not to me?""My child, when through your windowShines down the moonlight clear,—When all is still and silent,And no kind friend is near,—"Are you not glad and happy,And full of thoughts of love?Do you not think of heaven.That brighter land above?"These thoughts the angels bring you;And though the gentle toneOf their sweet voices comes notWhen you are all alone;"Yet they are always leaving,For earth, their homes on high;And though you cannot see them,You feel that they are nigh."
Illustration: Letter W.
"Where are the angels, mother?Though you have often saidThey watched at night around me,And safely kept my bed;"Though every night I listenTheir voices low to hear,Yet I have never heard them,—Where are they, mother dear?"And when the silver moonshineFills all my room with light,And when the stars are shining,So countless and so bright."I hope to see them coming,With their fair forms, to me;Yet I have never seen them,—Mother, where can they be?"I saw a cloud, this evening,Red with the setting sun;It was so very lovely,I thought it might be one."But when it faded slowly,I knew it could not be,For they are always shining;Why come they not to me?""My child, when through your windowShines down the moonlight clear,—When all is still and silent,And no kind friend is near,—"Are you not glad and happy,And full of thoughts of love?Do you not think of heaven.That brighter land above?"These thoughts the angels bring you;And though the gentle toneOf their sweet voices comes notWhen you are all alone;"Yet they are always leaving,For earth, their homes on high;And though you cannot see them,You feel that they are nigh."
"Where are the angels, mother?Though you have often saidThey watched at night around me,And safely kept my bed;
"Where are the angels, mother?
Though you have often said
They watched at night around me,
And safely kept my bed;
"Though every night I listenTheir voices low to hear,Yet I have never heard them,—Where are they, mother dear?
"Though every night I listen
Their voices low to hear,
Yet I have never heard them,—
Where are they, mother dear?
"And when the silver moonshineFills all my room with light,And when the stars are shining,So countless and so bright.
"And when the silver moonshine
Fills all my room with light,
And when the stars are shining,
So countless and so bright.
"I hope to see them coming,With their fair forms, to me;Yet I have never seen them,—Mother, where can they be?
"I hope to see them coming,
With their fair forms, to me;
Yet I have never seen them,—
Mother, where can they be?
"I saw a cloud, this evening,Red with the setting sun;It was so very lovely,I thought it might be one.
"I saw a cloud, this evening,
Red with the setting sun;
It was so very lovely,
I thought it might be one.
"But when it faded slowly,I knew it could not be,For they are always shining;Why come they not to me?"
"But when it faded slowly,
I knew it could not be,
For they are always shining;
Why come they not to me?"
"My child, when through your windowShines down the moonlight clear,—When all is still and silent,And no kind friend is near,—
"My child, when through your window
Shines down the moonlight clear,—
When all is still and silent,
And no kind friend is near,—
"Are you not glad and happy,And full of thoughts of love?Do you not think of heaven.That brighter land above?
"Are you not glad and happy,
And full of thoughts of love?
Do you not think of heaven.
That brighter land above?
"These thoughts the angels bring you;And though the gentle toneOf their sweet voices comes notWhen you are all alone;
"These thoughts the angels bring you;
And though the gentle tone
Of their sweet voices comes not
When you are all alone;
"Yet they are always leaving,For earth, their homes on high;And though you cannot see them,You feel that they are nigh."
"Yet they are always leaving,
For earth, their homes on high;
And though you cannot see them,
You feel that they are nigh."
Illustration: Letter O.Of the childhood of our SaviourTells one simple verse alone;Yet from that his whole behaviorWhen he was a child, is known.He was subject to his mother,So the holy Scriptures say;'Tis enough, we need no otherRecord of him day by day.Thus we, his obedience knowing,Know how gentle and how mild,—How in truth and goodness growingWas our Saviour from a child.Little children, who endeavorLike the blessed One to be,As you try, remember everHow obedient was he.If, like Jesus pure and holy,You your parents' will obey,You will grow more meek and lowly,And more like him, every day.Illustration.
Illustration: Letter O.Of the childhood of our SaviourTells one simple verse alone;Yet from that his whole behaviorWhen he was a child, is known.He was subject to his mother,So the holy Scriptures say;'Tis enough, we need no otherRecord of him day by day.Thus we, his obedience knowing,Know how gentle and how mild,—How in truth and goodness growingWas our Saviour from a child.Little children, who endeavorLike the blessed One to be,As you try, remember everHow obedient was he.If, like Jesus pure and holy,You your parents' will obey,You will grow more meek and lowly,And more like him, every day.Illustration.
Illustration: Letter O.
Of the childhood of our SaviourTells one simple verse alone;Yet from that his whole behaviorWhen he was a child, is known.He was subject to his mother,So the holy Scriptures say;'Tis enough, we need no otherRecord of him day by day.Thus we, his obedience knowing,Know how gentle and how mild,—How in truth and goodness growingWas our Saviour from a child.Little children, who endeavorLike the blessed One to be,As you try, remember everHow obedient was he.If, like Jesus pure and holy,You your parents' will obey,You will grow more meek and lowly,And more like him, every day.
Of the childhood of our SaviourTells one simple verse alone;Yet from that his whole behaviorWhen he was a child, is known.
Of the childhood of our Saviour
Tells one simple verse alone;
Yet from that his whole behavior
When he was a child, is known.
He was subject to his mother,So the holy Scriptures say;'Tis enough, we need no otherRecord of him day by day.
He was subject to his mother,
So the holy Scriptures say;
'Tis enough, we need no other
Record of him day by day.
Thus we, his obedience knowing,Know how gentle and how mild,—How in truth and goodness growingWas our Saviour from a child.
Thus we, his obedience knowing,
Know how gentle and how mild,—
How in truth and goodness growing
Was our Saviour from a child.
Little children, who endeavorLike the blessed One to be,As you try, remember everHow obedient was he.
Little children, who endeavor
Like the blessed One to be,
As you try, remember ever
How obedient was he.
If, like Jesus pure and holy,You your parents' will obey,You will grow more meek and lowly,And more like him, every day.
If, like Jesus pure and holy,
You your parents' will obey,
You will grow more meek and lowly,
And more like him, every day.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter S.Silence! stir not! for a whisperWould affright thy pretty prey;Not a motion, little lisper,Else the fish will glide away.Hush! he's coming! he is swimmingSlowly round and round the bait;Steady! though thine eye is brimmingFull of mirth that will not wait.And thy brother near thee kneelingFears to hear thy ringing shout;Gently! near and nearer stealingComes the brightly spotted trout.There! thy hook has caught him surely;Firmly hold thy slender rod;Pull away! and then securelyPlace him on the grassy sod.Illustration.'Neath the green boughs rustling o'er you,Fish away the livelong day;And with evening's star before you,Wander home at twilight gray.Illustration.
Illustration: Letter S.Silence! stir not! for a whisperWould affright thy pretty prey;Not a motion, little lisper,Else the fish will glide away.Hush! he's coming! he is swimmingSlowly round and round the bait;Steady! though thine eye is brimmingFull of mirth that will not wait.And thy brother near thee kneelingFears to hear thy ringing shout;Gently! near and nearer stealingComes the brightly spotted trout.There! thy hook has caught him surely;Firmly hold thy slender rod;Pull away! and then securelyPlace him on the grassy sod.Illustration.'Neath the green boughs rustling o'er you,Fish away the livelong day;And with evening's star before you,Wander home at twilight gray.Illustration.
Illustration: Letter S.
Silence! stir not! for a whisperWould affright thy pretty prey;Not a motion, little lisper,Else the fish will glide away.Hush! he's coming! he is swimmingSlowly round and round the bait;Steady! though thine eye is brimmingFull of mirth that will not wait.And thy brother near thee kneelingFears to hear thy ringing shout;Gently! near and nearer stealingComes the brightly spotted trout.There! thy hook has caught him surely;Firmly hold thy slender rod;Pull away! and then securelyPlace him on the grassy sod.
Silence! stir not! for a whisperWould affright thy pretty prey;Not a motion, little lisper,Else the fish will glide away.
Silence! stir not! for a whisper
Would affright thy pretty prey;
Not a motion, little lisper,
Else the fish will glide away.
Hush! he's coming! he is swimmingSlowly round and round the bait;Steady! though thine eye is brimmingFull of mirth that will not wait.
Hush! he's coming! he is swimming
Slowly round and round the bait;
Steady! though thine eye is brimming
Full of mirth that will not wait.
And thy brother near thee kneelingFears to hear thy ringing shout;Gently! near and nearer stealingComes the brightly spotted trout.
And thy brother near thee kneeling
Fears to hear thy ringing shout;
Gently! near and nearer stealing
Comes the brightly spotted trout.
There! thy hook has caught him surely;Firmly hold thy slender rod;Pull away! and then securelyPlace him on the grassy sod.
There! thy hook has caught him surely;
Firmly hold thy slender rod;
Pull away! and then securely
Place him on the grassy sod.
Illustration.
'Neath the green boughs rustling o'er you,Fish away the livelong day;And with evening's star before you,Wander home at twilight gray.
'Neath the green boughs rustling o'er you,
Fish away the livelong day;
And with evening's star before you,
Wander home at twilight gray.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter W."What is the rainbow, mother dear,With many-colored light?Have the clouds parted just to showThe floor of heaven so bright?"Or is it wings of angels pureThat touch along the sky?And do they come that we may seeHow fair is all on high?"Or, mother, on that shining archDo spirits rise above?And on that bended bow ascendWhere all is light and love?"How beautiful must be that road!Why should we call those back,Who travel to the better landOn such a sunny track?"Why did you weep when brother died?Did you not know that heOn that delightful path must tread,Ere he in heaven could be?""My dearest child, we cannot know,Or trace the spirit's flight,For sin and sorrow draw their veilAcross our mortal sight."If—as the rainbow takes its huesOf beauty from the sun—We strive to live like Christ our Lord,The meek and holy One,—"Then shall we dwell in Heaven's clear day,Which knows nor night nor moon,For, ever, from the Father's throneBeams high and cloudless noon."Illustration.
Illustration: Letter W."What is the rainbow, mother dear,With many-colored light?Have the clouds parted just to showThe floor of heaven so bright?"Or is it wings of angels pureThat touch along the sky?And do they come that we may seeHow fair is all on high?"Or, mother, on that shining archDo spirits rise above?And on that bended bow ascendWhere all is light and love?"How beautiful must be that road!Why should we call those back,Who travel to the better landOn such a sunny track?"Why did you weep when brother died?Did you not know that heOn that delightful path must tread,Ere he in heaven could be?""My dearest child, we cannot know,Or trace the spirit's flight,For sin and sorrow draw their veilAcross our mortal sight."If—as the rainbow takes its huesOf beauty from the sun—We strive to live like Christ our Lord,The meek and holy One,—"Then shall we dwell in Heaven's clear day,Which knows nor night nor moon,For, ever, from the Father's throneBeams high and cloudless noon."Illustration.
Illustration: Letter W.
"What is the rainbow, mother dear,With many-colored light?Have the clouds parted just to showThe floor of heaven so bright?"Or is it wings of angels pureThat touch along the sky?And do they come that we may seeHow fair is all on high?"Or, mother, on that shining archDo spirits rise above?And on that bended bow ascendWhere all is light and love?"How beautiful must be that road!Why should we call those back,Who travel to the better landOn such a sunny track?"Why did you weep when brother died?Did you not know that heOn that delightful path must tread,Ere he in heaven could be?""My dearest child, we cannot know,Or trace the spirit's flight,For sin and sorrow draw their veilAcross our mortal sight."If—as the rainbow takes its huesOf beauty from the sun—We strive to live like Christ our Lord,The meek and holy One,—"Then shall we dwell in Heaven's clear day,Which knows nor night nor moon,For, ever, from the Father's throneBeams high and cloudless noon."
"What is the rainbow, mother dear,With many-colored light?Have the clouds parted just to showThe floor of heaven so bright?
"What is the rainbow, mother dear,
With many-colored light?
Have the clouds parted just to show
The floor of heaven so bright?
"Or is it wings of angels pureThat touch along the sky?And do they come that we may seeHow fair is all on high?
"Or is it wings of angels pure
That touch along the sky?
And do they come that we may see
How fair is all on high?
"Or, mother, on that shining archDo spirits rise above?And on that bended bow ascendWhere all is light and love?
"Or, mother, on that shining arch
Do spirits rise above?
And on that bended bow ascend
Where all is light and love?
"How beautiful must be that road!Why should we call those back,Who travel to the better landOn such a sunny track?
"How beautiful must be that road!
Why should we call those back,
Who travel to the better land
On such a sunny track?
"Why did you weep when brother died?Did you not know that heOn that delightful path must tread,Ere he in heaven could be?"
"Why did you weep when brother died?
Did you not know that he
On that delightful path must tread,
Ere he in heaven could be?"
"My dearest child, we cannot know,Or trace the spirit's flight,For sin and sorrow draw their veilAcross our mortal sight.
"My dearest child, we cannot know,
Or trace the spirit's flight,
For sin and sorrow draw their veil
Across our mortal sight.
"If—as the rainbow takes its huesOf beauty from the sun—We strive to live like Christ our Lord,The meek and holy One,—
"If—as the rainbow takes its hues
Of beauty from the sun—
We strive to live like Christ our Lord,
The meek and holy One,—
"Then shall we dwell in Heaven's clear day,Which knows nor night nor moon,For, ever, from the Father's throneBeams high and cloudless noon."
"Then shall we dwell in Heaven's clear day,
Which knows nor night nor moon,
For, ever, from the Father's throne
Beams high and cloudless noon."
Illustration.
Illustration.Awake! awake! the dusky nightIs fading from the sky;Awake! and with the early lightTo pleasant fields we'll hie.Come with me, and I will showWhere the fragrant wild-flowers grow;We will weave a garland gayFor our smiling Queen of May.The sun peeps up behind the hills,And hark! the morning songOf little birds the fresh air fills,As now we skip along.By the brook-side cold and wet,Blooms the pale, white violet;There's the purple blossom, too,Nodding with its weight of dew.The gentle wind just lifts the headOf many a columbine;And, taken from their rocky bed,They in our wreaths shall twine.Saxifrage, so small and sweet,Grows in plenty at our feet;From the grass we gather up,Golden bright, the buttercup.Now for the trailing evergreen,That in the woodland springs,And we will crown our May-day queenWith buds this fair month brings.Merriest of all the yearIs the day we welcome here;We will sing and dance away,In our glee, this long May-day.Illustration.
Illustration.Awake! awake! the dusky nightIs fading from the sky;Awake! and with the early lightTo pleasant fields we'll hie.Come with me, and I will showWhere the fragrant wild-flowers grow;We will weave a garland gayFor our smiling Queen of May.The sun peeps up behind the hills,And hark! the morning songOf little birds the fresh air fills,As now we skip along.By the brook-side cold and wet,Blooms the pale, white violet;There's the purple blossom, too,Nodding with its weight of dew.The gentle wind just lifts the headOf many a columbine;And, taken from their rocky bed,They in our wreaths shall twine.Saxifrage, so small and sweet,Grows in plenty at our feet;From the grass we gather up,Golden bright, the buttercup.Now for the trailing evergreen,That in the woodland springs,And we will crown our May-day queenWith buds this fair month brings.Merriest of all the yearIs the day we welcome here;We will sing and dance away,In our glee, this long May-day.Illustration.
Illustration.
Awake! awake! the dusky nightIs fading from the sky;Awake! and with the early lightTo pleasant fields we'll hie.Come with me, and I will showWhere the fragrant wild-flowers grow;We will weave a garland gayFor our smiling Queen of May.The sun peeps up behind the hills,And hark! the morning songOf little birds the fresh air fills,As now we skip along.By the brook-side cold and wet,Blooms the pale, white violet;There's the purple blossom, too,Nodding with its weight of dew.The gentle wind just lifts the headOf many a columbine;And, taken from their rocky bed,They in our wreaths shall twine.Saxifrage, so small and sweet,Grows in plenty at our feet;From the grass we gather up,Golden bright, the buttercup.Now for the trailing evergreen,That in the woodland springs,And we will crown our May-day queenWith buds this fair month brings.Merriest of all the yearIs the day we welcome here;We will sing and dance away,In our glee, this long May-day.
Awake! awake! the dusky nightIs fading from the sky;Awake! and with the early lightTo pleasant fields we'll hie.Come with me, and I will showWhere the fragrant wild-flowers grow;We will weave a garland gayFor our smiling Queen of May.
Awake! awake! the dusky night
Is fading from the sky;
Awake! and with the early light
To pleasant fields we'll hie.
Come with me, and I will show
Where the fragrant wild-flowers grow;
We will weave a garland gay
For our smiling Queen of May.
The sun peeps up behind the hills,And hark! the morning songOf little birds the fresh air fills,As now we skip along.By the brook-side cold and wet,Blooms the pale, white violet;There's the purple blossom, too,Nodding with its weight of dew.
The sun peeps up behind the hills,
And hark! the morning song
Of little birds the fresh air fills,
As now we skip along.
By the brook-side cold and wet,
Blooms the pale, white violet;
There's the purple blossom, too,
Nodding with its weight of dew.
The gentle wind just lifts the headOf many a columbine;And, taken from their rocky bed,They in our wreaths shall twine.Saxifrage, so small and sweet,Grows in plenty at our feet;From the grass we gather up,Golden bright, the buttercup.
The gentle wind just lifts the head
Of many a columbine;
And, taken from their rocky bed,
They in our wreaths shall twine.
Saxifrage, so small and sweet,
Grows in plenty at our feet;
From the grass we gather up,
Golden bright, the buttercup.
Now for the trailing evergreen,That in the woodland springs,And we will crown our May-day queenWith buds this fair month brings.Merriest of all the yearIs the day we welcome here;We will sing and dance away,In our glee, this long May-day.
Now for the trailing evergreen,
That in the woodland springs,
And we will crown our May-day queen
With buds this fair month brings.
Merriest of all the year
Is the day we welcome here;
We will sing and dance away,
In our glee, this long May-day.
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter I."I was walking, dearest mother,This morning, by the brook,And tired at last I rested meWithin a shady nook."There all was still and lonely,And suddenly I heardA little voice,—a sweeter oneThan note of any bird."I looked above, around me,I saw not whence it came;And yet that tone of musicWas calling me by name."The violet beside meBloomed with its purple cup,And a tiny face, so lovely,Amidst its leaves peeped up."Again the silver music,—The voice I loved to hear,—Upon its sweet breath floated,And bade me not to fear."'I am the elf,' it whispered,'Who in the violet dwells,And every blossom hides oneWithin its fragrant cells."'If you will list our teaching,And catch our faintest tone,Your heart will be as spotless,As loving as our own.'"And then, as I was gazing,It vanished from my sight;Once more the violet nodded,And sought the sunshine bright.""My darling child, the elfinsThat live within the flowersSweet sounds are ever breathing,To glad this world of ours."Well may we weep and sorrow,If they are silent all;Then are our souls too sinfulTo heed their spirit call."The pure in heart alone can hearThose precious words and low;And by their lessons purer yetThroughout their lives shall grow."Illustration.
Illustration: Letter I."I was walking, dearest mother,This morning, by the brook,And tired at last I rested meWithin a shady nook."There all was still and lonely,And suddenly I heardA little voice,—a sweeter oneThan note of any bird."I looked above, around me,I saw not whence it came;And yet that tone of musicWas calling me by name."The violet beside meBloomed with its purple cup,And a tiny face, so lovely,Amidst its leaves peeped up."Again the silver music,—The voice I loved to hear,—Upon its sweet breath floated,And bade me not to fear."'I am the elf,' it whispered,'Who in the violet dwells,And every blossom hides oneWithin its fragrant cells."'If you will list our teaching,And catch our faintest tone,Your heart will be as spotless,As loving as our own.'"And then, as I was gazing,It vanished from my sight;Once more the violet nodded,And sought the sunshine bright.""My darling child, the elfinsThat live within the flowersSweet sounds are ever breathing,To glad this world of ours."Well may we weep and sorrow,If they are silent all;Then are our souls too sinfulTo heed their spirit call."The pure in heart alone can hearThose precious words and low;And by their lessons purer yetThroughout their lives shall grow."Illustration.
Illustration: Letter I.
"I was walking, dearest mother,This morning, by the brook,And tired at last I rested meWithin a shady nook."There all was still and lonely,And suddenly I heardA little voice,—a sweeter oneThan note of any bird."I looked above, around me,I saw not whence it came;And yet that tone of musicWas calling me by name."The violet beside meBloomed with its purple cup,And a tiny face, so lovely,Amidst its leaves peeped up."Again the silver music,—The voice I loved to hear,—Upon its sweet breath floated,And bade me not to fear."'I am the elf,' it whispered,'Who in the violet dwells,And every blossom hides oneWithin its fragrant cells."'If you will list our teaching,And catch our faintest tone,Your heart will be as spotless,As loving as our own.'"And then, as I was gazing,It vanished from my sight;Once more the violet nodded,And sought the sunshine bright.""My darling child, the elfinsThat live within the flowersSweet sounds are ever breathing,To glad this world of ours."Well may we weep and sorrow,If they are silent all;Then are our souls too sinfulTo heed their spirit call."The pure in heart alone can hearThose precious words and low;And by their lessons purer yetThroughout their lives shall grow."
"I was walking, dearest mother,This morning, by the brook,And tired at last I rested meWithin a shady nook.
"I was walking, dearest mother,
This morning, by the brook,
And tired at last I rested me
Within a shady nook.
"There all was still and lonely,And suddenly I heardA little voice,—a sweeter oneThan note of any bird.
"There all was still and lonely,
And suddenly I heard
A little voice,—a sweeter one
Than note of any bird.
"I looked above, around me,I saw not whence it came;And yet that tone of musicWas calling me by name.
"I looked above, around me,
I saw not whence it came;
And yet that tone of music
Was calling me by name.
"The violet beside meBloomed with its purple cup,And a tiny face, so lovely,Amidst its leaves peeped up.
"The violet beside me
Bloomed with its purple cup,
And a tiny face, so lovely,
Amidst its leaves peeped up.
"Again the silver music,—The voice I loved to hear,—Upon its sweet breath floated,And bade me not to fear.
"Again the silver music,—
The voice I loved to hear,—
Upon its sweet breath floated,
And bade me not to fear.
"'I am the elf,' it whispered,'Who in the violet dwells,And every blossom hides oneWithin its fragrant cells.
"'I am the elf,' it whispered,
'Who in the violet dwells,
And every blossom hides one
Within its fragrant cells.
"'If you will list our teaching,And catch our faintest tone,Your heart will be as spotless,As loving as our own.'
"'If you will list our teaching,
And catch our faintest tone,
Your heart will be as spotless,
As loving as our own.'
"And then, as I was gazing,It vanished from my sight;Once more the violet nodded,And sought the sunshine bright."
"And then, as I was gazing,
It vanished from my sight;
Once more the violet nodded,
And sought the sunshine bright."
"My darling child, the elfinsThat live within the flowersSweet sounds are ever breathing,To glad this world of ours.
"My darling child, the elfins
That live within the flowers
Sweet sounds are ever breathing,
To glad this world of ours.
"Well may we weep and sorrow,If they are silent all;Then are our souls too sinfulTo heed their spirit call.
"Well may we weep and sorrow,
If they are silent all;
Then are our souls too sinful
To heed their spirit call.
"The pure in heart alone can hearThose precious words and low;And by their lessons purer yetThroughout their lives shall grow."
"The pure in heart alone can hear
Those precious words and low;
And by their lessons purer yet
Throughout their lives shall grow."
Illustration.
Illustration: Letter A.A new-born babe was sleepingWithin its cradle fair,And angel guards were keepingIts peaceful slumbers there.Gone was the age of fairies,And of the elfins wild,Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch,Were wont to bless the child.But in a distant city,Fays that still glad the earth,Four gentle little children,Hailed with delight his birth.Out spake the eldest sister,"O, let us fairies play,And give to our young brotherSome precious gift to-day."Sit down around the fireside,And I my gift will tell."And the little children sat them downThe fancy pleased them well.Again thus spake the eldest,"I 'll give himbeautyrare;His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,His brow like marble fair."He shall have golden ringlets,His cheeks shall mock the rose;And he shall be the loveliestWhere'er his light form goes."The next replied, "Oh! sister,Not such a gift is mine;For beauty's charms, though lovely,Must perish and decline."I'll give himwitandtalents;In manhood he shall standAmong the gifted and the wise,That bless our native land.""I'll give himsweet good-temper,"Said the third loving child;"He shall make glad our happy homeBy actions kind and mild."The youngest raised her wondering eyes,And said, in accents low,"I thought the gift I chose would beThe first that you 'd bestow."I'll give our little brotherObedienceto-day,And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,All that our parents say."Oh! blessed is the childish heart,In life's first opening dawn,For all its high and holy thoughtsFrom heavenly founts are drawn.May our most valued blessings beObedience and love!Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, fullOf teachings from above!Illustration.
Illustration: Letter A.A new-born babe was sleepingWithin its cradle fair,And angel guards were keepingIts peaceful slumbers there.Gone was the age of fairies,And of the elfins wild,Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch,Were wont to bless the child.But in a distant city,Fays that still glad the earth,Four gentle little children,Hailed with delight his birth.Out spake the eldest sister,"O, let us fairies play,And give to our young brotherSome precious gift to-day."Sit down around the fireside,And I my gift will tell."And the little children sat them downThe fancy pleased them well.Again thus spake the eldest,"I 'll give himbeautyrare;His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,His brow like marble fair."He shall have golden ringlets,His cheeks shall mock the rose;And he shall be the loveliestWhere'er his light form goes."The next replied, "Oh! sister,Not such a gift is mine;For beauty's charms, though lovely,Must perish and decline."I'll give himwitandtalents;In manhood he shall standAmong the gifted and the wise,That bless our native land.""I'll give himsweet good-temper,"Said the third loving child;"He shall make glad our happy homeBy actions kind and mild."The youngest raised her wondering eyes,And said, in accents low,"I thought the gift I chose would beThe first that you 'd bestow."I'll give our little brotherObedienceto-day,And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,All that our parents say."Oh! blessed is the childish heart,In life's first opening dawn,For all its high and holy thoughtsFrom heavenly founts are drawn.May our most valued blessings beObedience and love!Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, fullOf teachings from above!Illustration.
Illustration: Letter A.
A new-born babe was sleepingWithin its cradle fair,And angel guards were keepingIts peaceful slumbers there.Gone was the age of fairies,And of the elfins wild,Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch,Were wont to bless the child.But in a distant city,Fays that still glad the earth,Four gentle little children,Hailed with delight his birth.Out spake the eldest sister,"O, let us fairies play,And give to our young brotherSome precious gift to-day."Sit down around the fireside,And I my gift will tell."And the little children sat them downThe fancy pleased them well.Again thus spake the eldest,"I 'll give himbeautyrare;His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,His brow like marble fair."He shall have golden ringlets,His cheeks shall mock the rose;And he shall be the loveliestWhere'er his light form goes."The next replied, "Oh! sister,Not such a gift is mine;For beauty's charms, though lovely,Must perish and decline."I'll give himwitandtalents;In manhood he shall standAmong the gifted and the wise,That bless our native land.""I'll give himsweet good-temper,"Said the third loving child;"He shall make glad our happy homeBy actions kind and mild."The youngest raised her wondering eyes,And said, in accents low,"I thought the gift I chose would beThe first that you 'd bestow."I'll give our little brotherObedienceto-day,And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,All that our parents say."Oh! blessed is the childish heart,In life's first opening dawn,For all its high and holy thoughtsFrom heavenly founts are drawn.May our most valued blessings beObedience and love!Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, fullOf teachings from above!
A new-born babe was sleepingWithin its cradle fair,And angel guards were keepingIts peaceful slumbers there.
A new-born babe was sleeping
Within its cradle fair,
And angel guards were keeping
Its peaceful slumbers there.
Gone was the age of fairies,And of the elfins wild,Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch,Were wont to bless the child.
Gone was the age of fairies,
And of the elfins wild,
Who, hovering o'er the infant's couch,
Were wont to bless the child.
But in a distant city,Fays that still glad the earth,Four gentle little children,Hailed with delight his birth.
But in a distant city,
Fays that still glad the earth,
Four gentle little children,
Hailed with delight his birth.
Out spake the eldest sister,"O, let us fairies play,And give to our young brotherSome precious gift to-day.
Out spake the eldest sister,
"O, let us fairies play,
And give to our young brother
Some precious gift to-day.
"Sit down around the fireside,And I my gift will tell."And the little children sat them downThe fancy pleased them well.
"Sit down around the fireside,
And I my gift will tell."
And the little children sat them down
The fancy pleased them well.
Again thus spake the eldest,"I 'll give himbeautyrare;His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,His brow like marble fair.
Again thus spake the eldest,
"I 'll give himbeautyrare;
His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,
His brow like marble fair.
"He shall have golden ringlets,His cheeks shall mock the rose;And he shall be the loveliestWhere'er his light form goes."
"He shall have golden ringlets,
His cheeks shall mock the rose;
And he shall be the loveliest
Where'er his light form goes."
The next replied, "Oh! sister,Not such a gift is mine;For beauty's charms, though lovely,Must perish and decline.
The next replied, "Oh! sister,
Not such a gift is mine;
For beauty's charms, though lovely,
Must perish and decline.
"I'll give himwitandtalents;In manhood he shall standAmong the gifted and the wise,That bless our native land."
"I'll give himwitandtalents;
In manhood he shall stand
Among the gifted and the wise,
That bless our native land."
"I'll give himsweet good-temper,"Said the third loving child;"He shall make glad our happy homeBy actions kind and mild."
"I'll give himsweet good-temper,"
Said the third loving child;
"He shall make glad our happy home
By actions kind and mild."
The youngest raised her wondering eyes,And said, in accents low,"I thought the gift I chose would beThe first that you 'd bestow.
The youngest raised her wondering eyes,
And said, in accents low,
"I thought the gift I chose would be
The first that you 'd bestow.
"I'll give our little brotherObedienceto-day,And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,All that our parents say."
"I'll give our little brother
Obedienceto-day,
And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,
All that our parents say."
Oh! blessed is the childish heart,In life's first opening dawn,For all its high and holy thoughtsFrom heavenly founts are drawn.
Oh! blessed is the childish heart,
In life's first opening dawn,
For all its high and holy thoughts
From heavenly founts are drawn.
May our most valued blessings beObedience and love!Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, fullOf teachings from above!
May our most valued blessings be
Obedience and love!
Our hearts, like that sweet sister's, full
Of teachings from above!
Illustration.
"Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung,To sleep hath sung thee now an angel's tongue."From the German of Ruckert.Illustration: Letter A.A lovely babe was lyingUpon its mother's breast;And she, with soft, low music.Was hushing it to rest.The song was sweet and gentle,And loving in its tone;And in its touching tendernessA mother's love was shown.And still it floated onward,With melody so deep,Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids,The baby was asleep.And still beside his cradleShe sang the same low hymn,Till he smiled, as he was sleeping,At angel fancies dim.Years passed.—The helpless infantWas now a happy boy;And often rang his laughter,In notes of heartfelt joy.Upon his mother's bosomI saw the child again;And his little head was droopingIn weakness and in pain.Back from his marble foreheadThe hair streamed, golden bright;But yet his dark eye sparkledWith more than mortal light.And suddenly he whispered,"What music sweet I hear!'Tis not the song you used to singAt night, O mother dear!"But sweeter far, and softer,Than notes you ever sung;It is as if a silver bellIts pleasant chimings rung."It tells of rest, dear mother,Of slumber calm and deep;And I am worn and weary,And fain 'would sink to sleep."Darkness is closing round me—You're fading from my sight—I hear it still!--dear mother,Kiss me once more—good-night!"He slept; but angel voicesHad sung his lullaby;And sweet shall be his wakingIn our Father's home on high!Illustration.
"Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung,To sleep hath sung thee now an angel's tongue."From the German of Ruckert.Illustration: Letter A.A lovely babe was lyingUpon its mother's breast;And she, with soft, low music.Was hushing it to rest.The song was sweet and gentle,And loving in its tone;And in its touching tendernessA mother's love was shown.And still it floated onward,With melody so deep,Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids,The baby was asleep.And still beside his cradleShe sang the same low hymn,Till he smiled, as he was sleeping,At angel fancies dim.Years passed.—The helpless infantWas now a happy boy;And often rang his laughter,In notes of heartfelt joy.Upon his mother's bosomI saw the child again;And his little head was droopingIn weakness and in pain.Back from his marble foreheadThe hair streamed, golden bright;But yet his dark eye sparkledWith more than mortal light.And suddenly he whispered,"What music sweet I hear!'Tis not the song you used to singAt night, O mother dear!"But sweeter far, and softer,Than notes you ever sung;It is as if a silver bellIts pleasant chimings rung."It tells of rest, dear mother,Of slumber calm and deep;And I am worn and weary,And fain 'would sink to sleep."Darkness is closing round me—You're fading from my sight—I hear it still!--dear mother,Kiss me once more—good-night!"He slept; but angel voicesHad sung his lullaby;And sweet shall be his wakingIn our Father's home on high!Illustration.
"Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung,To sleep hath sung thee now an angel's tongue."From the German of Ruckert.
"Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung,
To sleep hath sung thee now an angel's tongue."
From the German of Ruckert.
Illustration: Letter A.
A lovely babe was lyingUpon its mother's breast;And she, with soft, low music.Was hushing it to rest.The song was sweet and gentle,And loving in its tone;And in its touching tendernessA mother's love was shown.And still it floated onward,With melody so deep,Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids,The baby was asleep.And still beside his cradleShe sang the same low hymn,Till he smiled, as he was sleeping,At angel fancies dim.Years passed.—The helpless infantWas now a happy boy;And often rang his laughter,In notes of heartfelt joy.Upon his mother's bosomI saw the child again;And his little head was droopingIn weakness and in pain.Back from his marble foreheadThe hair streamed, golden bright;But yet his dark eye sparkledWith more than mortal light.And suddenly he whispered,"What music sweet I hear!'Tis not the song you used to singAt night, O mother dear!"But sweeter far, and softer,Than notes you ever sung;It is as if a silver bellIts pleasant chimings rung."It tells of rest, dear mother,Of slumber calm and deep;And I am worn and weary,And fain 'would sink to sleep."Darkness is closing round me—You're fading from my sight—I hear it still!--dear mother,Kiss me once more—good-night!"He slept; but angel voicesHad sung his lullaby;And sweet shall be his wakingIn our Father's home on high!
A lovely babe was lyingUpon its mother's breast;And she, with soft, low music.Was hushing it to rest.
A lovely babe was lying
Upon its mother's breast;
And she, with soft, low music.
Was hushing it to rest.
The song was sweet and gentle,And loving in its tone;And in its touching tendernessA mother's love was shown.
The song was sweet and gentle,
And loving in its tone;
And in its touching tenderness
A mother's love was shown.
And still it floated onward,With melody so deep,Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids,The baby was asleep.
And still it floated onward,
With melody so deep,
Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids,
The baby was asleep.
And still beside his cradleShe sang the same low hymn,Till he smiled, as he was sleeping,At angel fancies dim.
And still beside his cradle
She sang the same low hymn,
Till he smiled, as he was sleeping,
At angel fancies dim.
Years passed.—The helpless infantWas now a happy boy;And often rang his laughter,In notes of heartfelt joy.
Years passed.—The helpless infant
Was now a happy boy;
And often rang his laughter,
In notes of heartfelt joy.
Upon his mother's bosomI saw the child again;And his little head was droopingIn weakness and in pain.
Upon his mother's bosom
I saw the child again;
And his little head was drooping
In weakness and in pain.
Back from his marble foreheadThe hair streamed, golden bright;But yet his dark eye sparkledWith more than mortal light.
Back from his marble forehead
The hair streamed, golden bright;
But yet his dark eye sparkled
With more than mortal light.
And suddenly he whispered,"What music sweet I hear!'Tis not the song you used to singAt night, O mother dear!
And suddenly he whispered,
"What music sweet I hear!
'Tis not the song you used to sing
At night, O mother dear!
"But sweeter far, and softer,Than notes you ever sung;It is as if a silver bellIts pleasant chimings rung.
"But sweeter far, and softer,
Than notes you ever sung;
It is as if a silver bell
Its pleasant chimings rung.
"It tells of rest, dear mother,Of slumber calm and deep;And I am worn and weary,And fain 'would sink to sleep.
"It tells of rest, dear mother,
Of slumber calm and deep;
And I am worn and weary,
And fain 'would sink to sleep.
"Darkness is closing round me—You're fading from my sight—I hear it still!--dear mother,Kiss me once more—good-night!"
"Darkness is closing round me—
You're fading from my sight—
I hear it still!--dear mother,
Kiss me once more—good-night!"
He slept; but angel voicesHad sung his lullaby;And sweet shall be his wakingIn our Father's home on high!
He slept; but angel voices
Had sung his lullaby;
And sweet shall be his waking
In our Father's home on high!
Illustration.