  CHILDREN. THE LIFE-CLOCK. There is a little mystic clock, No human eye hath seen, That beateth on,--and beateth on,-- From morning until e'en. And when the soul is wrapped in sleep, All silent and alone, It ticks and ticks the livelong night, And never runneth down. Oh! wondrous is that work of art, Which knells the passing hour; But art ne'er formed, nor mind conceived, The life-clock's magic power. Not set in gold, nor decked with gems, By wealth and pride possessed; But rich or poor, or high or low, Each bears it in his breast. Such is the clock that measures life,-- Of flesh and spirit blended,-- And thus 't will run within the breast, Till that strange life is ended. GOD IS LOVE. Lo! the heavens are breaking, Pure and bright above; Light and life awaking, Murmur, "God is love." Music now is ringing, Through the leafy grove, Feathered songsters, singing, Warble, "God is love." Wake, my heart, and springing, Spread thy wings above; Soaring still, and singing,-- Singing, "God is love." TIME. A minute,--how soon it is flown! And yet, how important it is! God calls every moment His own,-- For all our existence is His: And tho' we may waste many moments each day, He notices each that we squander away. We should not a minute despise, Although it so quickly is o'er; We know that it rapidly flies, And therefore should prize it the more. Another, indeed, may appear in its stead; But that precious minute, for ever, is fled. 'Tis easy to squander our years In idleness, folly, and strife; But, oh! no repentance nor tears Can bring back one moment of life. Then wisely improve all the time as it goes, And life will be happy, and peaceful the close. THANKSGIVING. There's not a leaf within the bower,-- There's not a bird upon the tree,-- There's not a dewdrop on the flower,-- But bears the impress, Lord, of Thee. Thy power the varied leaf designed, And gave the bird its thrilling tone; Thy hand the dewdrops' tints combined, Till like a diamond's blaze they shone. Yes, dewdrops, leaves and buds, and all,-- The smallest, like the greatest things,-- The sea's vast space, the earth's wide ball, Alike proclaim Thee, King of kings! But man alone, to bounteous Heaven, Thanksgiving's conscious strains can raise: To favored man, alone, 'tis given, To join the angelic choir in praise. "THOU, GOD, SEEST ME." Thine eye is on me always, Thou knowest the way I take; Thou seest me when I'm sleeping, Thou seest me when I wake. Thine arm is round about me, Thy hand is underneath; Thy love will still preserve me, If I Thy laws do keep. Thou art my present helper,-- Be Thou my daily guide; Then I'll be safe for ever, Whatever may betide. Oh! help me, dearest Father, To walk in wisdom's way, That I, Thy loving child, may be Through every future day, And, by my loving actions, prove That He who guardeth me is Love. THE BEAUTIFUL WORKS OF GOD. All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful,-- The Lord God made them all. Each little flower that opens, Each little bird that sings, He made their glowing colors, He made their shining wings. The tall trees in the green wood, The meadows where we play, The rushes, by the water, We gather every day,-- He gave us eyes to see them, And lips, that we may tell How great is God Almighty, Who doeth all things well. SPIRITUAL BLESSINGS. Almighty Father! Thou hast many blessings In store for every loving child of Thine; For this I pray,--Let me, Thy grace possessing, Seek to be guided by Thy will divine. Not for earth's treasures,--for her joys the dearest,-- Would I my supplications raise to Thee; Not for the hopes that to my heart are nearest, But only that I give that heart to Thee. I pray that Thou wouldst guide and guard me ever; Cleanse, by Thy power, from every stain of sin; I will Thy blessing ask on each endeavor, And thus Thy promised peace my soul shall win. THE DOVE'S VISIT. I knew a little, sickly child,
Teaching every day their lesson to my weary, panting soul,
To be faithful in well doing, stretching upward for the goal, Sending out the climbing tendrils, trusting God for strength and power,
To support, and aid, and comfort, in the trying day and hour.
Ne’er spurn the thing that’s common, nor call homely flowers poor,
Each hath a holy mission, like my Glory o’er the door. HOW BEAUTIFUL THE SETTING SUN. How beautiful the setting sun!
The clouds, how bright and gay!
The stars, appearing one by one,
How beautiful are they! And when the moon climbs up the sky,
And sheds her gentle light,
And hangs her crystal lamp on high,
How beautiful is night! And can it be, that I’m possessed
Of something brighter far?
Glows there a light within this breast,
Out-shining every star? Yes, should the sun and stars turn pale,
The mountains melt away,
This flame within shall never fail,
But live in endless day.
SUMMER TIME.
heart; To the poor and needy Kindly aid impart.To the soul-despairing
Breathe a hopeful word;
From your lips be only
Tones of kindness heard.
Ever give for anger,
Love and tenderness;
And, in blessing others.
You yourself will bless. Little acts of kindness,
Nothing do they cost;
Yet when they are wanting,
Life’s best charm is lost.
Little acts of kindness,
Richest gems of earth;
Though they seem but trifles,
Priceless is their worth. * * * * * If wisdom’s ways you wisely seek,
Five things observe with care:—
To whom you speak,—of whom you speak,—
And how,—and when,—and where.
THE BLESSINGS. Blessed are the poor in spirit,
They the kingdom shall possess,
Rich in faith and heavenly blessings,
Let us ever forward press. Blessed are the sad and mournful,
Weeping o’er their treasures gone
For the darkness gathered o’er them
Is the harbinger of morn. Blessed are the meek and lowly,
They the green earth shall inherit;
Full of love, and peace, and gladness,
Fruits of God’s most Holy Spirit. Blessed they who thirst and hunger;
All their wants shall be supplied;
Never yet have been forsaken
They, who on their God relied. Blessed they who, loving mercy,
Joy not in another’s pain;
All the mercy shown to others
They shall for themselves obtain. Blessed are the pure and prayerful,
Seeking God in every place;
They shall in their home eternal
See Him ever face to face. Blessed are the good peace-makers,
For God’s children they shall be;
Of His glory full partakers,
When from earth their spirits flee. Blessed ye, when men revile you,
Treat you falsely for My sake;
For the prophets gone before you
Did the self-same treatment take. Let us then be ever mindful
Of the precepts Christ has given;
So that when this life is over,
We may dwell with Him in heaven. WHEN FATHER COMES HOME. When my father comes home in the evening from work,
Then I will get up on his knee,
And tell him how many nice lessons I learn,
And show him how good I can be. He shall hear what number I know how to count;
I’ll tell him what words I can spell;
And if I can learn something new every day,
I hope soon to read very well. I’ll repeat to him all the good verses I know,
And tell him how kind we must be,
That we never must hurt little creatures at all:
And he will be glad, and love me. I’ll tell him we always must try to please God,
And never be cruel or rude;
For God is the Father of all living things,
He cares for and blesses the good. HARVEST-FIELD OF TIME Children, all of us are gleaners
In the harvest-field of time;
Day by day the grain is ripening
For a sunnier clime. Whether in the early morning,
Going forth with busy feet,
Or, as weary laborers, resting
’Mid the noon-day heat; Let us strive, with cheerful spirits,
Each our duties to fulfil,
Till the time of harvest,—subject
To the Master’s will. Let us garner up sweet memories,
Bound with ties of love;
Pleasant thoughts to cheer the pathway
To our home above. Trusting that these precious gleanings,
Bound with loving hand,
May in golden sheaves be gathered
To the spirit land. PRAYER. Watch o’er me, Heavenly Shepherd,
Extend Thy crook of love,
That so no germ of anger
A source of trial prove. Keep me within Thy pastures,
And feed me from Thy hand;
Let no temptation snare me,
Or tear me from Thy hand. May innocence and purity
My clothing ever be,
That though this earth is still my home,
I may walk close to Thee. REFLECTIONS. We’re just starting into life,—
What shall arm us for its strife?
What shall lead our steps aright?
Whence shall come a guiding light? Whence shall come the saving word?
How the voice of God be heard?
Not from sages,—not from books,
Nor twinkling stars, nor babbling brooks. These all speak His power and love,
Who rules below, and rules above;
But to know His holy will,
Oft in silence deep and still, We must turn an ear within; There, midst lIn the index, where two poems were listed on the same page, separate line entries were made so that each poem could have a unique link. |
