The First Hymn.

God made the bright, round sun;
    He made the pretty flowers;
The little birds, the trees, the clouds
    The rain that falls in showers.

He made papa, mamma,
    And baby brother, too;
And mother says He looks from Heaven,
    And sees each thing I do.

Then I must try to be
    Pleasant, and sweet, and mild;
For the good God who made me loves
    A kind, obedient child.

H. P. Nichols

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H. P. Nichols

The Fishers.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

I Must Not Be Selfish.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

Spring.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

Evening Hymn.

H. P. Nichols, Simple Poetry

English

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Morning Hymn.

Now again the yellow sun
Shines upon my window-pane;
Now anothor day's begun,
I can laugh and play again.

I must try to-day to be
Kind in all I say and do;
Then will God be pleased with me,
And mamma will love me too.

For she says that God above
Loves to see a little child
Sweet and gentle as the dove,
Like the pretty lamb so mild.

H. P. Nichols

God Loves Us.

"How beautiful it is, mamma,
    That God should love us all;
That He should listen to their prayer,
    When little children call!

"What shall I do for him, mamma?
    For He's so kind to me,--
How shall I show my love to Him
    Who made bird, flower and tree?"

"The only thing which you can do
    Is this, my darling child,
Be always gentle, full of love,
    In words and actions mild.

"Thus you will show your love to God
    Who is so kind to you;
And you will live with Him at last
    In His bright heaven, too."

H. P. Nichols

Evening Hymn.

Now the sun hath gone to rest,
Stars are coming faint and dim,
And the bird within his nest
Sweetly sings his evening hymn.

Have I tried mamma to mind?
Was I gentle in my play?
Have I been a true and kind,
Pleasant little girl to-day?

Then will God take care of me
Kindly, through the long dark night;
Bright and happy, I shall see
Once again the morning light.

H. P. Nichols

The Child's Question.

"What are the flowers for, mamma,
    That spring up fresh and bright,
And grow on every hill and plain,
    Where'er I turn my sight?

"How do the flowers grow, mamma?
    I've pulled the leaves away,
And tried to see them blossom out,
    On many a summer's day."

"The flowers were made, my little child,
    That when our footsteps trod
Upon the green and pleasant fields,
    We then might think of God.

"We may not see how they do grow,
    And bloom in beauty fair;
We cannot tell how they can spread
    Their small leaves to the air:

"But yet we know that God's kind hand
    Creates these little flowers,
And makes the warm sun shine on them,
    And waters them with showers.

"And so we love to think that He,

H. P. Nichols

Evening Hymn.

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.

H. P. Nichols

The Pleasant World.

I love to see the sun go down
    Behind the western hill;
I love to see the night come on,
    When everything is still.

I love to see the moon and stars
    Shine brightly in the sky;
I love to see the rolling clouds
    Above my head so high.

I love to see the little flowers
    That grow up from the ground;
To hear the wind blow through the trees,
    And make a rustling sound.

I love to see the sheep and lambs
    So happy in their play;
I love to hear the small birds sing
    Sweetly, at close of day.

I love to see them _all_, because
    They are so bright and fair;
And He who made this pleasant world
    Will listen to my prayer.

H. P. Nichols