And shelter the wild flowers.
How do the leaves fade
Beneath the autumn blast?
Oh! they fairer grow before they die,
Their brightest is their last.
We, too, are like leaves,
O children! weak and small;
God knows each leaf of the forest shade:
He knows us, each and all.
Never a leaf falls
Until its part is done;
God gives us grace, like sap, and then
Some work to every one.
We, too, must grow old,
Beneath the autumn sky;
But lovelier and brighter our lives may grow,
Like leaves before they die.
Brighter with kind deeds,
With love to others given;
Till the leaf falls off from the autumn tree,
And the spirit is in heaven.
THE SPRING BIRD’S LESSON
Thou’rt up betimes, my little bird,
And out this morning early,
For still the tender bud is closed,
And still the grass is pearly.
Why rise so soon, thou little bird,
Thy soft, warm nest forsaking?
To brave the dull, cold morning sky,
While day is scarcely breaking?
Ah! thou art wise, thou little bird,
For fast the hours are flying;
And this young day, but dawning now,
Will soon, alas! be dying.
I’ll learn of thee, thou little bird,
And slothful habits scorning,
No longer sleep youth’s dawn away,
Nor waste life’s precious morning.
THE ORPHAN’S HYMN
Father, – an orphan’s prayer receive,
And listen to my plaintive cry:
Thou only canst my wants relieve,
Who art my Father in the sky.
I have no father here below,
No mother kind to wipe my tears, —
These tender names I never know,
To soothe my grief and quell my fears.
But Thou wilt be my parent, – nigh
In every hour of deep distress,
And listen to an orphan’s sigh,
And soothe the anguish of my breast.
For Thou hast promised all I need,
More than a father’s, mother’s care:
Thou wilt the hungry orphan feed,
And always listen to my prayer.
MORNING
Dear Lord, another day has come,
And through the hours of night,
In a good bed and quiet home
I’ve slept till morning light.
Then let me give Thee thanks and praise,
For Thou art very good;
Oh, teach my little heart to raise
The prayer that children should.
Keep me this day from faults and sin,
And make me good and mild;
Thy Holy Spirit place within,
Grant grace unto a child.
Help me obey my parents dear,
For they are very kind;
And when the hour of rest draws near,
Another prayer I’ll find.
EVENING
The day is gone, – the silent night
Invites me to my peaceful bed;
But, Lord, I know that it is right
To thank Thee, ere I rest my head.
For my good meals and pleasant hours,
That I have had this present day,
Let me exert my infant powers
To praise Thee, nor forget to pray.
Thou art most good. I can’t tell all
That Thou hast ever done for me;
My Shepherd, now on Thee I call,
From dangers still preserve me free.
If I’ve been naughty on this day,
Oh! make me sorry for my fault;
Do Thou forgive, and teach the way
To follow Jesus as I ought.
And now I’ll lay me down to rest,
Myself, – my friends, – all safely keep;
May Thy great name be ever blest,
Both when we wake, and when we sleep.
A MOMENT TOO LATE!
A moment too late, my beautiful bird, —
A moment too late are you now,
The wind has your soft, downy nest disturbed, —
The nest that you hung on the bough.
A moment too late, – that string in your bill
Would have fastened it firmly and strong;
But see, there it goes rolling over the hill!
Oh! you tarried a moment too long.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.