H. P. Nichols

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 other
    Record of him day by day.

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 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.

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.

Spring has come, dear mother!
    I've a violet found,
Growing in its beauty
    From the cold, dark ground.

You are sad, dear mother,
    Tears are in your eye;
You're not glad to see it;
    Mother, tell me why?

I remember.--Last year,
    Where our Willie lies,
Grew the earliest violet,
    Blue as were his eyes.

Then you told me, mother,
    That the flowers would fade,
And their withered blossoms
    On the earth be laid.

But you said, as springtime
    Would their buds restore,
Willie would in heaven
    Be forevermore.

Weep no more, dear mother!
    Violets are in bloom;
And your darling Willie
    Lives beyond the tomb.

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 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 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 securely
    Place him on the grassy sod.



'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.

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.

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 brother
    Some precious gift to-day.

"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 him _beauty_ rare;
His eyes shall be as d...

Come, sister Ellen, get your hat
    And come away with me;
My boat, all rigged with mast and sail,
    I want you so to see!

Do you upon the landing stand,
    While here I'll kneel and blow,
So that the little "Water-witch"
    Beneath the arch may go.

There! there! she's off! how fast she goes
    Across the river wide!
I'd love to sit in her myself,
    And o'er the water glide.

When I'm a man I'll have a boat,
    And every sunny day,
We'll take a long and pleasant sail,
    Till daylight fades away.

I've just looked from the window
    To see the snow come down,
And make the streets look nice and white,
    That lately were so brown.

I've seen a little beggar-girl
    Go by in all the cold;
She had no shoes nor stockings on,
    Her dress was torn and old.

How thankful I should be to God,
    Who gives me clothes and food,
A nice warm fire, a pleasant home,
    And parents kind and good!

Mamma, I'll always try to help
    The hungry and the poor;
For those who are not warmed and fed,
    I pity, I am sure.

Little Lucy was left in the room once alone,
    Where the table was set out for tea;
She looked all around, and she thought to herself
    That no one was there who could see.

Then she climbed on a chair and took off the top
    Of the sugar-bowl, shining and bright;
And there were the lumps of the sugar she loved,
    All looking so nice and so white!

Then she said to herself, "Mamma never will know,
    If I take away only just one;"
So she took it, and ate it;--it tasted so good,
    She thought, "But one more, and I've done."

But while she was reaching her hand out for more,
    The chair slipped away from her feet;
And poor little Lucy soon wished much that she
    Had not taken the sugar so sweet:

For her head struck the floor, a...

"O Mother! here's the organ-man,
    And here's the monkey, too!
Just see his funny gown of red,
    And little cap of blue!

"O look! he's on the window there!
    His cap is in his paw;
And now he bows and makes a face;
    What can it all be for?

"O, now they've dropped some money in,
    While, quickly as he can,
See! he puts on his cap, and gives
    The pennies to the man.

"Mamma! why don't you look at him!
    You have not seen at all;
Just see him climbing up and down,
    With paws so brown and small!

"He's gone away! O, dear mamma,
    Why did you not come here?
You never saw, in all your life,
    A thing one half as queer."

"I'll tell you why, my little son,
    I do not like to see
That mo...

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.

"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 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 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 land
    On such a sunny track?

"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,

"Come to the window, mother!
    Look out, and you will see
How fast these little clouds sail on,
    Above our old elm tree!

"And tell me, dearest mother,
    Are these the sheep of heaven,
That in that land are feeding,
    From morning until even?

"How soft and white and shining!
    Oh! say, dear mother, there
Is everything so gentle,
    So lovely and so fair?"

"We cannot see them, darling,
    The sheep of heaven, here;
And far more beautiful than this
    Does that bright land appear.

"Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
    Nor tongue of man can tell
The glories of that home above,
    Where all the good shall dwell."

Don't kill the spider, little Fred,
    But come and stand by me,
And watch him spin that slender thread,
    Which we can hardly see.

How patiently, now up, now down,
    He brings that tiny line!
He never stops, but works right on,
    And weaves his web so fine.

You could not make a thread so small,
    If you should try all day;
So never hurt him, dear, at all,
    But spare him in your play.

"Tell me a Sunday story,"
    A dear child said to me;
And I bent down and kissed her
    And placed her on my knee.

"Once, long ago, in countries
    Far, very far away,
Where the cold snow-storm never comes,
    And all is bright and gay,

"There lived a king, so cruel,
    He gave this stern command,
That all the little children
    Must die, throughout the land.

"But still there was one mother
    Who kept her baby dear,
And quickly hushed its crying,
    In silence and in fear;

"But when she could no longer
    Her precious baby hide,
She did not like to throw him
    Upon the rushing tide;

"And so a little basket
    She made, of rushes stout,
And plastered it with clay and pitch
    To keep...

    "Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung,
    To sleep hath sung thee now an angel's tongue."

    From the German of Ruckert.



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 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 beside his cradle
    She sang the same low hymn,
Till he smiled, as he was sleeping,
    At angel fancies dim.

Years passed.--The helpless infant
    Was now a happy boy;
And often rang his laughter,...

"My little Edward, how could you
Tell me a thing that was not true?
And make me feel thus grieved and sad
To find I have a child so bad?

"And then, to do a deed so mean,
And wish by that yourself to screen!
Would you have had me blame poor Tray,
And send him from the fire away?

"O! never, when you've disobeyed,
Or by your mischief trouble made,
Think that a wicked act is right
Because you hide it from my sight.

"It will be always seen by One,
Who knows each wrong that you have done;
And I shall know it too, no doubt,
For sin must always find you out.

"I cannot let you here to-day
With me and little sisters stay;
But you must go up stairs alone,
Till you a better boy have grown."

The happiest hour of all the day
    To me, is always last;
When both my studies and my play,
    My walks and work, are past.

When round the bright warm fire we come,
    With hearts so light and free,
And all within our happy home
    Are talking quietly,

Then, by my dear, kind father's side
    I sit, or on his knee,
And then I tell him I have tried
    His gentle girl to be.

And then he says the little child
    Is loved by every one,
Who has a temper sweet and mild
    And smiling as the sun.

Let me do always as I should,
    Nor vex my father dear;
And let me be as glad and good
    As he would have me here.

"I hear the birds sing, mother,
    Yet know not what they say;
I've listened to them often
    Until they flew away.

"Say if their words, dear mother,
    To you are clear and plain,
Or if, like me, you've listened
    At morn and night in vain."

"We don't know what they say, dear;
    We think they sing their hymn
At early morning sunrise,
    Or at the twilight dim.

"When softly sings the mother,
    Within her downy nest,
We think she's gently hushing
    Her little ones to rest.

"But this remember, darling,
    The birds are always kind;
A cross or angry songster
    I never yet could find.

"And you may learn a lesson
    From their sweet notes of love;
Like them be always gentle,
    And pl...