PART III. THE CLASS ROOM. |
Songs of instruction are not always the most interesting with regard to taste: but there are occasional exceptions against this remark; nor does it apply with the same strictness in regard to young children that it does in reference to adults. Such songs should be associated with pleasant remarks and illustrations; and occasionally with such series of questions as may be suggested by the language which is sung. The songs in this department are adapted to children who have passed the period of prattling infancy. CREATION. Music He who spread out the sky,
That broad blue canopy,
Who made the glorious sun,
The moon to shine by night,
The stars with eye so bright,
He made thee, little one.
He who with care doth keep
The nested birds that sleep:
And when their rest is done,
Doth guide them through the sky,
And feed them when they cry,
He loves thee, little one.
L. H. S. QUESTIONS. - Who made you?
- Who made the sky, the sun, the moon, and the stars?
- Who takes care of the birds and feeds them?
- Does the Lord take care of little children?
- Does he love them when they are his children?
THE ARK AND DOVE. Music There was a noble ark,
Sailing o'er waters dark,
And wide around:
Not one tall tree was seen,
Nor flow'r, nor leaf of green,
All, all was drown'd.
Then a soft wing was spread,
And o'er the billows dread,
A meek dove flew;
But on that shoreless tide,
No living thing she spied
To cheer her view—
So to the ark she fled,
With weary drooping head
To seek for rest;
Christ is thy ark, my love,
Thou art the tender dove,
Fly to his breast.
L. H. S. QUESTIONS. - Who built the ark?
- What was put into it?
- Was the rest of the world destroyed?
- For what?
- Why was the dove sent out, and why did she return?
- Why is Christ called an ark?
PLEYEL'S HYMN.[5] Music Child, you're old enough to know
That you need a Savior's love
That you are a sinner too,
All your wicked actions prove.
When you feel your bosom swell,
Angry passions rise within
And your lips speak what they feel,
Something tells you—there is sin.
Christ was once a little child,
But his heart was pure within;
Always gentle, kind and mild;
Child, you must be just like him.
B.
THE MOON IS VERY FAIR. Music The moon is very fair and bright,
And rises very high;
I think it is a pretty sight,
To see it in the sky;
It shone upon me where I lay,
And seem'd almost as bright as day.
The stars are very pretty too,
And scatter'd all about;
At first there seem a very few,
But soon the rest come out:
I'm sure I could not count them all
They are so very bright and small.
The sun is brighter still than they,
He blazes in the skies:
I dare not turn my face that way,
Unless I shut my eyes:
Yet when he shines our hearts revive,
And all the trees rejoice and thrive.
God made and keeps them every one
By his great power and might;
He is more glorious than the sun,
And all the stars of light:
But when we end our mortal race,
The pure in heart shall see his face.
Jane Taylor.
THE COMMANDMENTS.[6] Music One God I must worship supreme,
And ne'er before images bow,
I must not speak light of his name,
But pay to him every vow.
I'm bound to remember with care,
The Sabbath, so hallow'd and pure;
To honor my parents so dear,
That my life may the longer endure.
I never must steal, or consent
To what is impure or untrue;
I must not indulge discontent,
Or covet my neighbor his due.
Now help me, O Father in heav'n,
To keep these commandments with zeal;
In the strength that through Jesus is giv'n
To those who are doing thy will.
GOOD LITTLE GIRLS. Music Two good little girls, Marianne and Maria,
As happily liv'd as good girls could desire;
And though they were neither grave, sullen, nor mute,
They seldom or never were heard to dispute.
If one wants a thing that the other could get,
They never are scratching or scrambling for it,
But each one is willing to give up her right,
They'd rather have nothing than quarrel and fight.
If one of them happens to have something nice,
Directly she offers her sister a slice;
And not like to some greedy children I've known,
Who would go in a corner and eat it alone.
When papa or mamma had a job to be done,
These good little girls would immediately run,
And not stand disputing to which it belong'd,
And grumble and fret and declare they were wrong'd.
Whatever occur'd in their work or their play,
They were willing to yield, and give up their own way;
Then let us all try their example to mind,
And always like them, be obliging and kind.
Jane Taylor.
HOW I LOVE MY TENDER MOTHER. Music How I love my tender mother,
How I love my father dear;
How I love my little brother,
And my sister so sincere:
They are all both kind and true,
And they love me dearly too.
Be my neighbor proud or lowly,
He shall my affection share;
Be he sinful, be he holy,
He may claim my earnest prayer:
Let me not unfeeling prove,
Nor myself too dearly love.
But of all affection giv'n,
God on high demands the most;
God the Father in the heav'n,
God the Son and Holy Ghost:
Three in One and One in Three;
Be thou all in all to me.
The child may be taught, in connexion with this song, how that "love is the fulfilling of the law"—love that includes all the characteristics mentioned in the gospel. The last stanza introduces also the subject of the blessed Trinity, in such a manner as to invite explanation.
THE BEES. Music THE BEES. O, mother dear, pray tell me where
The bees in winter stay?
The flow'rs are gone they fed upon,
So sweet in summer's day.
My child, they live within the hive,
And have enough to eat:
Amid the storm they're clean and warm,
Their food is honey sweet.
Say, mother dear, how came it there?
Did father feed them so?
I see no way in winter's day
That honey has to grow.
No, no, my child, in summer mild,
The bees laid up their store
Of honey drops in little cups,
'Til they would want no more.
In cups you said—how are they made?
Are they as large as ours?
O no, they're all made nice and small
Of wax, found in the flow'rs.
Our summer's day to work and play,
Is now in mercy giv'n,
And we must strive long as we live
To lay up stores in HEAV'N.
I SAW AN OLD COTTAGE. Music I saw an old cottage of clay,
And only of mud was the floor;
'Twas all falling into decay,
And snow drifted in at the door.
Yet there a poor family dwelt,
In a cottage so dismal and rude;
And though keenest hunger they felt,
They'd scarcely a morsel of food.
The children were crying for bread,
And to their poor mother would run—
"O, give us some breakfast," they said,
Alas! their poor mother had none.
O then let the wealthy and gay
But see such a hovel as this;
And in a poor cottage of clay,
Learn what real misery is.
The little that I have to spare,
I never will squander away;
While thousands of people there are
As poor and as wretched as they.
Jane Taylor.
THE CHATTERBOX.[7] Music THE CHATTERBOX. From morning till night it was Lucy's delight,
To chatter and talk without stopping;
There was not a day but she rattled away,
Like water forever a dropping.
As soon as she rose, while she put on her clothes,
'Twas vain to endeavor to still her;
Nor once did she lack to continue her clack,
Till again she lay down on her pillow.
How very absurd! and have you not heard
That much tongue and few brains are connected?
That they are suppos'd to think least who talk most?
Their wisdom is always suspected.
While Lucy was young, if she'd bridled her tongue,
With a little good sense and exertion,
Who knows but she might now have been our delight,
Instead of our jest and aversion!
Jane Taylor.
THE SCALE.[8] Music Come let us learn to sing,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
Loud let our voices ring,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw;
Let us sing with open sound,
With our voices full and round,
Faw mi law sol faw law sol faw.
This is the scale so sweet,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
Sing it with accent meet,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
First ascend in notes so true,
Then descend in order too;
Faw mi law sol faw law sol faw.
Children should love to sing,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
Praise to the heav'nly King,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw:
Let us learn his face to seek,
Then aloud his praise we'll speak,
Faw, mi, law, sol, faw, law, sol, faw.
THE ABC. Swiss Air.[9] Music The A, B, C,
Is pleasant to me,
I'm learning it all the day;
Whenever I look
In a printed book,
I See nothing but A, B, C.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C.
I See nothing but A, B, C.
I'm glad to know,
The fine little row,
Of letters both great and small,
The D, E, F, G,
The M, N, O, P,
And the X, Y, Z and all:
Sing A, B, C,
Sing R, S, T,
Sing X, Y, Z and all.
If I can fix
These marks twenty-six,
In this little careless head;
I'll read every book
As soon as I look
At the letters all over it spread.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
And the letters all over it spread.
I now will learn
Them all in turn,
The big letters and the small;
For how can I spell,
Or pronounce them well,
Till I shall have learned them all?
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
For I'm going to learn them all.
The bees and flies
Have nice little eyes,
But never can read like me;
They crawl in the book,
And they seem to look,
But they never know A, B, C;
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C,
They never know A, B, C.
THE LITTLE LAMB.
THE ORPHAN. Music O, if I were a robin,
I'd soon be on the wing,
I'd leave my sighs and sobbin'
And sweetly I would sing;
And early in each morning
I'd fly from tree to tree;
And going and returning
What pretty things I'd see?
But now I am so lonely,
I know not where to stay,
My little brother only
Is with me day by day:
My mother dear was crying
When father lay so low:
When she herself was dying—
I know not what to do.
Our parents are in heaven,
Their spirits went above;
Their sins were all forgiven,
For they the Lord did love:
God call'd them to forsake us,
And laid them in the dust;
But he himself will take us,
If in his name we trust.
If Jesus will receive us
Within his precious fold;
And when he'll please to give us
Some pretty wings of gold;
Then soon we will be flying
Up to that blessed place,
Where there is no more crying,
So near his smiling face.
THE PENITENT CHILD. Music THE PENITENT CHILD. A long time ago, when Janett was a child,
As thoughtless as others, as giddy and wild;
She was sent by her mistress one evening so fair,
Where a family circle were kneeling in prayer.
Her young heart was then touch'd, she would afterwards say—
"O! that my dear master but knew how to pray;"
For she had no father to pray for her soul,
No mother to counsel, advise, or control.
One night as the snows drifted deep through the vale,
While the bleak whistling wind was all dreary and chill,
She again sought the house where she first heard a pray'r,
And close to the door held her listening ear.
She heard, as the story of Jesus was read,
How he suffer'd below, how for sinners he bled;
Tears fell from her eyes like the drops of a show'r,
Till sobbings of anguish were heard at the door.
That night did the Lord, by his Spirit, impart,
To the penitent child a conversion of heart;
Then happy was she, though an orphan and poor,
And she never forgot how she knelt at the door.
B.
THE HEATHEN MOTHER. Music See that heathen mother stand
Where the sacred currents flow,
With her own maternal hand,
Mid the waves her infant throw.
Hark! I hear the piteous scream,
Frightful monsters seize their prey:
Or the dark and bloody stream
Bears the struggling child away.
Fainter now, and fainter still,
Breaks the cry upon the ear;
But the mother's heart is steel;
She, unmov'd, that cry can hear.
Send, O send the Bible there,
Let its precepts reach the heart,
She may then her children spare—
Act the mother's tender part.
B. - What is a heathen mother?
- What is meant by the sacred current?
- Why does she throw her infant into the river?
- What monsters of the deep seize infants?
- Why is the heathen mother so hard hearted?
- What would make her love her child?
- Would the Bible do her good without reading it?
- What would make its truths touch her heart?
- Why would she then spare her child?
THE BLOSSOM. Music THE BLOSSOM. Just now a fragile blossom grew,
Upon a lowly stem;
Its opening leaves disclos'd to view
A glitt'ring dewy gem.
Jane saw, and gently on her breast,
The tender flow'ret plac'd,
When lo! a rude and angry gust
Its beauties all effac'd.
Its leaves were scatter'd by the wind,
Its fragrance lost in air;
Till nothing there was left behind,
Of all that was so fair.
Young children, like this little flower,
Though beautiful and gay,
May in some sudden, mournful hour,
By death be borne away.
But the good child who loves to pray,
Whose sins are all forgiv'n,
Who loves the Savior's will t' obey,
May live and bloom in heav'n.
B.
BY THE SIDE OF A RIVER. Music By the side of a river so clear,
They carried the beautiful child,
Mid the flags and the bushes,
In an ark of bulrushes,
They left him so lonely and wild;
For the ruffians would come
If he tarried at home,
And murder that infant so dear.
By the side of the river so clear,
The ladies were winding their path,
When Pharaoh's daughter
Stepp'd into the water
Her delicate person to bathe:
Before it was dark,
She open'd the ark,
And found a sweet infant was there.
By the side of the river so clear,
That infant was lonely and sad,
She took him in pity
And thought him so pretty,
And made little Moses so glad,
She call'd him her own—
Her beautiful son,
And sent for some nurse that was near.
Away from the river so clear,
They carried the beautiful child;
To his own tender mother
His sister and brother,
And then he look'd happy and smil'd.
His mother so good,
Did all that she could,
To nurse him and teach him with care.
Once more by that river so clear,
When Moses was aged and good;
He saw the king tremble,
Relent and dissemble,
And the waters all turning to blood
The king would abuse,
And trouble the Jews,
And turn to the Lord a deaf ear.
And soon by the sea that was red,
Stood Moses the servant of God;
While in him he confided,
The deep was divided,
As upward he lifted his rod.
The Jews safely cross'd,
While Pharaoh's host,
Were drown'd in the waters and dead.
And soon on a mountain so high,
Stood Moses, all trembling with awe;
Mid the lightnings and thunders,
And great signs and wonders,
For God was then giving his law.
The Lord wrote it down,
On two tables of stone,
Before he went back to the sky.
Once more on a mountain he stood,
The last one he ever might see;
The prospect was glorious,
Where Israel victorious,
Would soon over Jordan be free.
Then his labors did cease;
He departed in peace,
And now rests in the heav'nly abode.
Questions and details relating to the history of Moses, are very profitable and instructive to children. Bible histories, well told, have a powerful influence upon their minds.
VOICE OF SPRING. Music Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
Woods and fields with echoes ring,
While the birds so sweetly sing;
Music floats
In joyous notes
From many a tuneful string.
Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
Busy bees are on the wing,
None but drones are slumbering:
Children too
Should learn to do
Every useful thing.
Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
From the flowers the breezes bring
Many a fragrant offering,
Emblem true
Of incense due
To Zion's glorious king.
Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
Trees their branches upward fling,
Vines unto their tendrils cling;
Infant bands
Lift up your hands,
Devoutly worshipping.
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