FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY Section Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2013 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library http://archive.org/details/goldballaOOphil ^ ^i OF PfiWcs GOLDEN S^|^-a^34'^^ AND ^^ *- ^ — *^^ BALLADS THE CHILD EE^\ SELECTED BY THE AUTHOR OF 'ANNIE'S GOLD CROSS," Etc., Etc. PHILADELPHIA: PRESBYTERIAN PUBLICATION COMMITTEE, 1334 CHESTNUT STREET. NEW YORK: A. D. F. RANDOLPH & CO., 770 BRO.\DWAY. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by WM. L. IIILDEBURN, Treasurer, 171 trust for the PRESBYTERIAN PUBLICATION COMMITTEE, In tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. Westcott & Thomson, Stereotypers, Pliilada. INTRODUCTIOIS'. Many children and many motliers will thank the lover of poetry whose taste, enthusiasm and labor have been devoted to the preparation of this little volume. In it will be found the cream of many good books compiled for the young, together with other pieces not in those volumes. Few gifts will afford more delight or prove more useful to our dear little boys and girls than our GOLDEN SONGS AND BALLADS. May they carry joy and love into many hearts and enliven many homes ! J. W. D. Golden Songs. o>^o LITTLE PEOPLE. A DREARY place would be this earth Were there no little people in it ; The song of life would lose its mirth Were there no children to begin it ! — No little forms like buds to grow, And make admiring hearts surrender ; No little hands on breast and brow To keep the thrilling love-chords tender ; No babe within our arms to leap ; No little feet toward slumber tending; No little knee in prayer to bend, Our lips the sweet words lending. 1 * 5 6 GOLDEN SONGS. What would the mothers do for work Were there no pants or jackets tearing ? Xo tiny dresses to embroider ? No cradle for their watchful caring ? No rosy boys, on wintry morn, With satchel to the school-house hasting? ' No merry shouts as home they rush, No precious morsel for their tasting ? The sterner souls would grow more stern, Unfeeling natures more inhuman; And man to stoic coldness turn, And woman would be less a woman. For in that clime toward which we reach Through Time's mysterious dim unfolding, The little ones with cherub smile Are still our Father's face beholding. So said His voice in whom we trust. When in Judea's realms a preacher; He made a child confront the proud. And be, in simple guise, their teacher. GOLDEN SOXGS. Life's song indeed would lose its charm Were there no babies to begin it ; A doleful place this world would be Were there no little people in it ! THE PATTER OF LITTLE FEET. Up with the sun in the morning, Away to the garden he hies, To see if the sleepy blossoms Have begun to open their eyes. Running a race with the wind, With a step as light and fleet, Under my window I hear The patter of little feet. Now to the brook he wanders In swift and noiseless flight, Splashing the sparkling ripples Like a fairy water-sprite. No sand under fabled river Has gleams like his golden hair ; GOLDEN SONGS. No pearly shell is fairer Than his slender ankles bare; Nor the rosiest stem of coral That blushes in ocean's bed, Is sweet as the flush that follows Our darling's airy tread. From a broad window my neighbor Looks down on our little cot, And watches the poor man's blessing : I cannot envy his lot. He has pictures, books and music, Bright fountains and noble trees ; Flowers that blossom in vases, Birds from beyond the seas ; But never does childish laughter His homeward footsteps greet, His stately halls ne'er echo To the tread of innocent feet. This child is our ^^ speaking picture !" A birdling that chatters and sings ; Sometimes a sleeping cherub — (Our other one has wings !) GOLDEN SONGS. li His heart is a charmed casket, Full of all that's cunning and sweet, And no harpstrings hold such music As follows his twinkling feet. When the glory of sunset opens The highway by angels trod. And seems to unbar the city Whose builder and maker is God, Close to the crystal portal, I see by the gates of pearl The eyes of our other angel, A twin-born little girl, And I ask to be taught and directed To guide his footsteps aright, So that I be accounted ^vorthy To walk in sandals of light. And hear, amid songs of welcome From messengers trusty and fleet. On the starry floor of heaven The patter of little feet ! 10 GOLDEN SOXGS. GOD SEES ME. Through all the busy daylight, through all the quiet uight, AVhether the stars are in the sky, or the sun is shining: brio;ht ! In the nursery, in the parlor, in the street, or on the stair. Though I may seem to be alone, yet God is always there. Whatever I may do, wherever I may be, Although I see him not, yet God sees me. He knows each word I mean to say before the word is spoken, He knows the thoughts within my heart, although I give no token ; When I am naughty, then I grieve my hea- venly Father's love, And every time I really try he helps me from above. Whatever I may do, wherever I may be, Although I see him not, yet God sees me. GOLDEX SONGS. 11 I have kind and tender parents, I have many loving friends, But none love me as God loves me ; all that is good he sends. I will walk as God shall lead me, when the sun is in the sky, And lay me down and sleep in peace beneath his watchful eye. Whatever I may do, wherever I may be, Although I see him not, yet God sees me. Hymns for Young Children. TREASURE ON EARTH AND TREASURE IN HEAVEN. Ben Adam had a golden coin one day, Which he put at interest with a Jew : Year after year, awaiting him it lay Until the doubled coin two pieces grew. And these two, four ! so on, till people said, "How rich Ben Adam is !'^ and bowed the servile head. 12 GOLDEN SONGS. Ben Selim had a golden coin that day, Which to a stranger asking alms he gave, Who went rejoicing on his unknown way. Ben Selim died, too poor to own a grave ; But when his soul reached heaven, angels with pride Showed him the wealth to which his coin had multiplied. "PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE." Up this world and down this world, And over this world and through, Though drifted about and tossed without, Still ^^ paddle your own canoe!" What if breakers rise up ahead. With dark waves rushing through ? ^love steadily by, with a steadfast eye, And " paddle your own canoe V' Never give up when trials come ; Never grow sad and blue ; GOLDEX SOXGS. 13 Never sit clown with a tear and a frown, But ^^ paddle your own canoe I'' Up this world and down this world, And over this world and through, Though weary and worn, bereft and forlorn. Still ^^ paddle your own canoe!'' Annie E. Hone. LITTLE DICK SNAPPY. Little Dick Snappy was always unhappy. Because he did nothing but fret. And w^hen he once cried 'twas in vain that you tried To make him his troubles forget. His mother once brought him a drum, that she bought him Hard by at a neighboring fair, And gave such another to Edward his brother. And left them their j^leasures to share. 2 14 GOLDEN SONGS. Little Edward began, like a nice little man, To play with his pretty new drum, But Dick, with a pout, only turned his about In his hands, and looked sulky and grum. ^^ What's the matter, dear Dick? you look sad : are you sick ? Come ! march like a soldier wnth me. The enemy comes, let us beat on our drums, And mamma w^ill our merriment see.'^ "No, I don't like my toy," said the ill- humored boy, " And yours is the best and most new; If you'll give me yours, then I'll go out of doors. But if not, then I'll kick mine in two." " Oh no, brother, no ! Pray do not say so. For a trifle in anger and haste; Though they're equally new, yet my drum I'd giv^e you, But I've tied it in knots round my waist." GOLDEN SONGS. 15 Then quarrelsome Dick gave his brother a kick, But he did not give him another; For. saying no more, Edward walked to the door. Only giving one look at his brother. Then, bursting with spite, with his utmost of might Master Dick trod his drum on the floor ; The parchment did crack ; when lo ! Edward came back, And his drum in his hands then he bore. ^^ The string is untied, dearest brother/^ he cried ; " So now I with pleasure will change ;" But when Dick^s drum he found lying broke on the ground, Oh how did his countenance change ! '^I am really ashamed'' (Dick sobbing ex- claimed) " At the difference between you and me ; 16 GOLDEX SONGS. But continue my friend and I'll try to amend, And a good-tempered fellow to be.'^ FORGIVING. " And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us." When thou art kneeling down at night Beside thy mother's knee to pray, And thinking over all thy sins Done through the busy day, Then call to mind thy brother's wrong, To strife by angry passions driven, And in thy heart forgive him all. As thou wouldst be forgiven. Go, throw thy little arms around His neck, and kiss him tenderly. Nor turn away with pouting lip And sullen, tearful eve. GOLDEX SOXGS. 17 Thou hast sinned more against thy God Than ever brother did to thee ; If he should turn away his face, How wretched wouldst thou be ! Dost thou remember, when thy Lord Hung on his cruel cross so long, How^ in his agony he prayed For those who did him wrong? They nailed his hands, they pierced his feet. Their angry hearts no pity knew ; " Father, forgive them/^ was his cry, ^^They know not what they do/' Go seek thy little brother's side, And press to his thy rosy cheek, And whisper the forgiveness free He is too proud to seek. Then, as the brightest ray from heaven Doth on the glittering dewdrop fall. Thy penitence shall be received. And God forgive thee all. Mrs. C. F. Alexander. 2 * 18 GOLDEN SONGS. ANNA'S GOOD RESOLUTIONS. Well^ now 1^11 sit down and I'll work very fast, And try if I can't be a good girl at last ; ^Tis better than being so sulky and haughty; I'm really tired of being so naughty. For, as dear mamma says, when my work is all done, There is plenty of time left to play and to run ; But when it is work-time, I ought to sit still ; I know that I ought, and I certainly will. Eut for fear, after all, I should get at my play ; I will put little doll in the closet away, And I'll not look to see what the kitten is doing, Nor think of a single thing, only my sewing. GOLDEN SOXGS. 19 I'm sorry I've idled so often before, But I hope I shall never do so any more ; Mamma will be pleased when she sees how I mend — When I've done this long seam from begin- ning to end. Miss Jane Taylor. POPPING CORN. OxE autumn night, when the wind was high And the rain fell in many flashes, A little boy sat by the kitchen fire, A-popping corn in the ashes ; And his sister, a curly-haired child of three. Sat looking on, just close to his knee. Pop ! pop ! and the kernels one by one Came out of the embers flying ; The boy held a long pine stick in hand. And kept it busily plying ; He stirred the corn, and it snapped the more. And faster jumped to the clean-swept floor. 20 GOLDEN SONGS. Part of the kernels flew one way, And a part hopped out the otlier ; Some flew plump into the sister's lap, Some under the stool of the brother ; The little girl gathered them into a heap, And called them a flock of milk-white sheep. MORNING HYMN. The morning bright, with rosy light, Has waked me from my sleep ; Father, I own thy love alone Thy little one doth keep. All through the day, I humbly pray, Be thou my Guard and Guide ; My sins forgive and let me live. Dear Saviour, near thy side. Oh make thy rest within my breast, Great Spirit of all grace; Make me like thee — then 1 shall be Prepared to see thy face. GOLDEN SONGS. 21 EVENING PRAYER. Now I lay me down to sleep — I pray the Lord my soul to keep ; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take ; And this I ask for Jesus' sake. LITTLE MARY. Before the bright sun rises over the hill, In the corn-fields poor Mary is seen, Impatient her little blue apron to fill With the few scattered ears she can glean. She never looks off nor goes out of her place, To play nor to idle nor chat, Except now and then just to wipe her warm face And fan herself with her straw hat. ^' Why don't you leave off, as others have done, And sit with them under the tree ? 22 GOLDEN SONGS. I fear you will faint in the beams of the sun ; How weary and hot you must be !'^ ^^ Oh no, my dear mother lies ill in her bed, Too feeble to spin or to knit ; My poor little brothers are crying for bread, And yet we can't give them a bit. '^ Then could I be idle, or merry, or play While they are so hungry and ill ? Ah no ! I had rather work hard all the day My little blue apron to fill." ON THE LORD'S SIDE. GoD's trumpet wakes the slumbering world ; Now each man to his post; The red-cross banner is unfurled — AVlio joins the glorious host? He who in fealty to the truth, And counting all tlie cost. Doth consecrate his generous youth — He joins the noble host. GOLDEX SOXGS. 23 He who, no anger on his tongue Nor any idle boast, Bears steadfast witness against wrong — He joins the sacred host. He who, vrith calm, undaunted wdll, Xe'er counts the battle lost ; But, though defeated, battles still — He joins the faithful host. He who is ready for the cross, The cause despised loves most. And shuns not pain, or shame, or loss — He joins the martyr host. ROBIN REDBREAST. Come here, little Robin, and don^t be afraid ; I would not hurt even a feather; Come here, little Robin, and pick up some bread To feed you this very cold weather. 24 GOLDEX SONGS. Come ! come ! I won't hurt you, you poor little thing ! And pussy-cat is not behind me ; So hop about pretty and put down your wing, And pick up the crumbs and don't mind me. Cold winter is come, but it will not last long, And summer we soon shall be greeting, So remember, dear Kobin, to sing me a song In return for the breakfast you're eating. / WONDERFUL NIGHT! CHRISTMAS. Wonderful night! Angels and shining immortals Thronging thine ebony portals Fling out their banners of light- Wonderful ni2:ht! GOLDEN S0XG3. 25 \Yonderful night ! Dreamed of by prophets and sages ; Manhood, redeemed for all ages. Welcomes thy hallowing might, Wonderful night ! Wonderful night ! Down o'er the stars to restore us, Leading his flame-winged chorus, Comes the Eternal to sight — Wonderful night ! Wonderful night ! Sweet be thy rest to the weary, Making the dull heart and dreary Laugh in a dream of delight — Wonderful night ! Wonderful night ! Let me as long as life lingers Sing with the cherubim singers, Glory to God in the height ;'' Wonderful night I 3 26 GOLDEN SONGS. THE BOY AND THE FLOWERS. WiLiJE, with a spirit light, was a happy little child, Playing near a fountain bright, playing with the flowers wild ; "Where they grew he lightly stepped, cautious not a leaf to crush, Then about the fountain leaped, shouting at its merry gush. AVhile the shining waters welled, laughing as they bubbled up, In his little hand he held, closely clasped, his silver cup ; Now he dipped it in to fill, now he bore it to the flowers. Through his fingers let it spill, all it held, in mimic showers. " Open, pretty buds,'' said he — " open to the air and sun ; So to-morrow I may see what my little rain has done ; GOLDEN SONGS. 27 Yes you will^ you will I know, for the drink I give you now, Burst your little cups and blow while I'm gone and can^t tell how. *^ I just wish that I could see how God's finger touches you, When your sides unclasp, and free let the spice and petals through ; I would watch you all the night, nor in dark- ness be afraid, Only once to see aright how a pretty flower is made. ^^ Now remember, I shall come in the morn- ing from my bed. Here to find among you some with their brightest colors spread.'^ To his buds he hastened out, at the dewy morning hour. Crying with a joyful shout, ^^God has made each bud a flower.'^ 28 GOLDEX SONGS. Precious must the ready faith of the little children be In the sight of Him who sairh, '* Suffer them to come to me/"' Answered by the smile of heaven is the in- fant's offerinir found, Though a cup of vrater given only to the thirstv crround. fv'Y MOTHER. AVho fed me from her gentle breast, And hushed me in her arms to rest, And on my cheek sweet kisses prest ? My rnuther I 'When sleep forsook my open eye, "Who was it sunor sweet hushaby, And revoked me that I should not cry? ^ly mother ! Who sat and watched my infant head When sleeping on my cradle bed, And tears of sweet affection shed? ^Iv mother ! GOLDEN SONGS. 29 When pain and sickness made me crj^, Who gazed upon my heavy eye, And wept for fear that I should die? My mother ! Who dressed my doll in clothes so gay, And taught me pretty how to play, And minded all I had to say ? My mother ! Who ran to help me when I fell. And would some pretty story tell. Or kiss the place to make it well ? My mother ! Who taught my infant lips to pray, And love God's holy book and day. And walk in wisdom's pleasant way ? My mother ! And can I ever cease to be Affectionate and kind to thee, Who was so very kind to me, My mother? 3* 30 GOLDEN SONGS. Ah no ! the thought I cannot bear ; And if God please my life to spare, I hope I shall reward thy care, My mother ! When thou art feeble, old and gray My healthy arm shall be thy stay, And I will soothe thy pains a^yay, My mother I And when I see thee hang thy head, ^Twill be my turn to watch thy bed, And tears of sweet affection shed, My mother ! For God, who lives above tlie skies, Would look with vengeance in his eyes If I should ever dare despise My mother ! GOLDEN SONGS. 31 THE COMMANDMENTS. This is the just and great command : To love thy God above ; And this the second : As thyself Thy neighbor thou shalt love. Who is thy neighbor ? He who wants The help which thou canst give ; And both the law and prophets say, ^^This do, and thou shalt live.^' ROSCOE. THE CHILDREN'S HYMN. Sing to the Lord the children's hymn ; His gentle love declare, Who bends amid the cherubim To hear the children's prayer. He at a mother's breast was fed, Though God's own Son was he ; He learned the first small words he said, Meek, at his mother's knee. 32 GOLDEX SOXGS. He held us to his mighty breast, The children of the earth ; He lifted up his hands and blessed The babes of human birth. Although he is the Son of God^ Our gracious Saviour too, The scenes we tread his footsteps trod, The paths of youth he knew. And from the stars his face will turn On us with glances mild ; The angels of his presence yearn To bless the little child. THE SWEET STORY. I THINK, when I read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here among men — How he called little children like lambs to his fold — I should like to have been with him then. GOLDEN SOXGS. 33 I wish that his hands had been placed on my head, And his arms had been thrown around me ; And that I might have seen his kind look wdien he said, ^^Let the little ones come unto me/^ But still to his footstool in prayer I may go, And ask for a share of his love ; And if I thus earnestly seek him below, I shall see him and hear him above — In that beautiful place he has gone to pre- pare For all who are washed and forgiven ; And many dear children are gathering there. For of such is the kingdom of heaven. THE LOVE OF CHRIST. Jesus loves me — this I know. For the Bible tells me so ; Little ones to him belong — They 'are weak, but he is strong. 34 ^ GOLDEN SONGS. Jesus loves me — lie who died Heaven^s gate to open Avide ; He will wash away my sin : Let his little child come in. Jesus loves me — loves me still, Though I'm very weak and ill ; From his shinino: throne on hio;h Comes to w^atch me w^here I lie. Jesus loves me — he w^ill stay Close beside me all the way ; If I love him w^hen I die, He will take me home on lil^h. LITTLE THINGS. Little drops of water, little grains of sand. Make the mighty ocean and the pleasant land ; And the little moments, humble though they be, Make the mighty ages of Eternity. GOLDEN SONGS. 35 So our little errors lead the soul astray From the paths of virtue, oft in sin to stray. Little deeds of kindness, little words of love, Make our earth an Eden like the heaven above. CRADLE HYMN. Hush, my dear ! lie still and slumber ; Holy angels guard thy bed, Heavenly blessings without number Gently falling on thy head. Sleep, my babe ! thy food and raiment, House and home thy friends provide ; And without thy care or payment All thy wants are w^ell supplied. Soft and easy is thy cradle ; Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay. When his birth-place was a stable. And his softest bed was hay. 36 GOLDEN SOXGS. Mayst thou live to know and fear him, Trust and love him all thy days ; Then go dwell for ever near him, See his face and sing his praise. I could give thee thousand kisses, Hoping what I most desire; Xot a mother's fondest wishes Can to greater joys aspire. Dr. Watts. OUR FATHER. Dearest Father! dwelling high, Far above the starry sky ; Seated on thy shining throne, Hear me pray, ^^Thy kingdom come.'' Hear me bless his holy name AVho a little cliild became — Bless the Spirit thou hast given, God most high, in earth and heaven. GOLDEN SONGS. 37 Wicked I have- often been ; Oh, forgive me every sin, Even as I forgive each one Who to me a wrono; has done. ■^a Keep me from each evil thought, For the Lord my soul has bought ; Me from powers of evil keep When I wake and when I sleep. I, thy little child, would bring Prayers and praises to my King ; Let my heart cease singing never, ^' Glory be to God for ever.'^ Helen Louisa Brown. THE TWO PENNIES. A PENNY I have, it is all my own. Little Charlotte exclaimed in a lively tone; I cannot do much with a penny, I fear. But I'll buy myself something to eat or to wear. 4 38 GOLDEN SONGS. A penny I have, little Mary said, And she thoughlfully raised her hand to her head ; Both missions and schools need money, I know, But I fear it is little my penny can do. So Charlotte ran off and some apples she bought. While Mary her mite to the mission-box brought; And which of them, think you, more cheer- fully smiled ? And which of the two was the happier child ? M. A. Stoddard. TWINKLE, LITTLE STAR. Twinkle, twinkle, little star; How I wonder what you are, Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky ! When the shining sun is set, When the grass with dew is wet, GOLDEN SONGS. 39 Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep. For you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky. BUSY BEE. How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day. From every opening flower ! How skillfully she builds her cell, How neat she lays her wax, And labors hard to start it well, With the sweet food she makes ! In works of labor or of skill I would be busy too ; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. Isaac Watts. 40 GOLDEN SOjSGS. VESPER. Thou that rulest earth and heaven, Darkness and light, Who the day for toil hast given, For rest the night ! May thine angel-guards defend us, Slumbers sweet thy mercy send us. Holy hopes and dreams attend us, This livelong night. Reginald Heber. EVENING HYMN. Glory to thee, my God, this night, For all the l)lessino:s of the lio:ht ; Keep me, oh keep me, King of kings, Beneath the shadow of thy wings. Forgive me, Lord, through thy dear Son, The ills which I this day have done; That with the world, myself and thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. GOLDEN SONGS. 41 Teach me to live that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I may Rise joyful at the judgment-day. Be thou my Guardian while I sleep ; Thy watchful station near me keep; My heart with love celestial fill, And guard me from the approach of ill. Lord, let my heart for ever share The bliss of thy paternal care ; ^Tis heaven on earth, His heaven above, To see thy face, to sing thy love. Bishop Ken. THE BABY. Another little w^ave upon the sea of life, Another soul to save amid its toil and strife ; Two more little feet to w^alk the dusty road. To choose where two paths meet — the narrow and the broad. 4* 42 GOLDEN SONGS. Two more little hands to work for good or ill; Two more little eyes, anotlier little will; Another heart to love, receiving love again ; And so the baby came, a thing of joy and pain. Mrs. Lucy E. Akerman. CRADLE HYMN. Sw^EET baby, sleep ! what ails my dear? What ails my darling thus to cry? Be still, my child, and lend thine ear To hear me sing thy lullaby : My pretty lamb, forbear to weep. Be still, my dear ; sweet baby, sleep. Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear ? What thing to thee can mischief do? Thy God is now thy Father dear. His holy Church thy mother too ; Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep. GOLDEN SONGS. 43 Whilst thus thy lullaby I sing, For thee great blessings ripening be ; Thine elclest Brother is a King, And hath a kingdom bought for thee ; Sweet baby, then fo^ear to weep. Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear, For whosoever thee offends By thy Protector threatened are, And God and angels are thy friends; Sweet baby, then forbear to weep. Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. George Withers. TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW. To-day ! a lisping child, with hair all golden, And blue of summer morning in his eyes, And cheeks ao-low with kisses of new lovinsr. Sees old things new, with ignorant surprise ; To-morrow ! and he knows the songs they sino- in Paradise. 44 GOLDEN SONGS. To-day ! a youth in pride of early manliood, Witli light of far-off hope upon his brow, With eager expectation of the coming, And wild impatience of the loitering now ; To-morrow ! he h§,th touched the throne at which all angels bow. To-day ! an old man lingers in his sadness ; Great griefs have digged deep furrows in his cheeks ; A cold grave, with the long-ago departed, In stammering words, is all the boon he seeks ; To-morrow! with unfaltering lips the joy of heaven he speaks. WORK AND PLAY. Work while you work, play while you play; That is the way to be cheerful and gay ; All that you do, do with your might — Things done by halves are never done right. GOLDEN SONGS. 45 BESSIE BELL Dear mother, why do all the girls Love little Bessie Bell ? IVe often thought it o'er and o'er, And yet I cannot tell. My favorite cousin always was Dear gentle cousin Bess ; But why the others love her so Indeed I cannot guess. They hear her gentle voice, my child, And see her mild, soft eye Beaming around on every one With love and sympathy ; They see her striving every hour For others' happiness : These are some reasons why the girls So love dear little Bess. Her widow^ed mother's heart she cheers With love and tenderness, And by her daily walk with God And growth in holiness : 46 GOLDEN SONGS. Sweet Bessie is a Christian child, She loves the Saviour dear : One of the lambs of his own flock, She has no want or fear. Money, M'hich other children spend In candy, toys or cakes, She carries to the poor and sick — She lov^es thera for Christ's sake. Poor old blind Dinah down the lane She reads to every day, And ne'er forgets it, though dear Bess Is very fond of play. And now, ray little daughter dear, AVould you be loved like Bess? Go ask of God to change your heart From pride to humbleness. Better than beauty, rank or gold To be like little Bess, Clothed in the spotless garment Of the Saviour's righteousness. GOLDEN SONGS. 47 OUR BABY. To-day we cut the fragrant sod with trem- bling hands asunder, And lay this well-beloved of God^ our dear dead baby, under ; O hearts that ache, and ache afresh ! O tears too blindly raining ! Our hearts are weak, yet, being fleshy too strong for our restraining. Sleep, darling, sleep ! cold rains shall steep thy little turf-made dwelling; Thou wilt not know — so far below — what winds and storms are swelling; And birds shall sing in the warm spring, and flowers bloom about thee ; Thou wilt not heed them, love ! but oh the loneliness without thee ! Father, we will be comforted ; thou wast the gracious Giver ; We yield her up — not dead, not dead — to dwell with thee for ever ; 48 GOLDEN SONGS. Take tliou our child, ours for a clay; thine ^vhile the ages blossom ; Tliis h'ttle shining head ^ve lay in the Re- deemer's bosom. TWO LITTLE ROBINS. Two Robin Redbreasts built their nest Witliin a hollow tree; The hen sat quietly at home, The cock sang merrily ; And all the little young ones said, ** We, wee — we, wee — we, wee.'' One day the sun was warm and bright, And shining in the sky; Cock Robin said, "My little dears, 'Tis time you learned to fly," And all the little young ones said, " We'll try— we'll try— we'll try.'' GOLDEN SONGS. 49 I know a cliikl, and who she is I'll tell you by and by ; When mauima says, ^^Do tliis or tliat/' She says, ^^What for?'' and ^^ Why f' She'd be a better child by far If she would say, '' I'll try." THE GRAIN OF CORN AND THE PENNY. A GRAIN of corn an infant's hand May plant upon an inch of land, Whence twenty stalks may spring, and yield Enough to stock a little field ; The harvest of that field might tlien Be multiplied to ten times ten, Which, sown thrice more, \vould furnish bread Wherewith an army might be fed. A penny is a little thing,- Which even the poor man's child may fling Into the treasury of heaven. And make it worth as much as seven ; As seven ? — nay, Avorth its weight in gold ; And that increased a million-fold. 5 50 GOLDEN SOXGS. For ]o ! a penny tract applied But well, may save a soul alive; That soul can scarce be saved alone : It must, it will, its bliss make known. *' Come," it will cry, ^' and you shall see AVhat great things God hath done for me." Hundreds that joyful sound may hear — Hear with the heart as well as ear — And these to thousands more proclaim Salvation in the ^^ only name ;" Till every tongue and tribe shall call On Jesus as the Lord of all. J. Montgomery. LITTLE DEEDS. Not mighty deeds make up the sum of happiness below, But little acts of kindliness that any child may show ; A merry sound to cheer the babe and drive away his fear, A word of childish sympathy, to dry the childish tear. GOLDEN SONGS. 51 A glass of water timely brought, an offered easy-chair ; A turning of the window blind, that all may feel the air ; A shading of the lamp for eyes too weak the light to bear ; An early flower bestowed unasked, a light and cautious tread ; A voice to gentle whispers hushed to spare an aching head ; The little ones amused for hours, or patient slowly led. Oh deeds like these, though little things, un- selfish love disclose. As fragrant perfume on the air reveals the hidden rose ; Our heavenly Father loves to see these pre- cious fruits of love; And those who are unselfish here shall dwell with him above. 52 GOLDEN SONGS. GOOD-NIGHT AND GOOD-MORNING. A DEAR little girl sat under a tree, Sewing as long as her eyes could see ; Then smoothed her work and fokled it right, And said, '^ Dear work, good-night ! good- night r Such a number of rooks came over her head, Crying, Caw, caw, caw, on their way to bed ; She said, as she watched their curious flight, ^^ Little black things, good-night ! good- night V' The horses neighed, the oxen lowed, The sheep's bleat, bleat, came over the road, All seeming to say with quiet deh'ght, ^^ Good little girl ! good-night ! good-night !" She did not say to the sun, Good-night ! Though she saw him there like a ball of light; For she knew he had God's time to keep All over the worhl, and never could sleep. GOLDEX SOXGS. 53 The tall pink foxglove bowed his head, The violets curtsied and went to bed ; And good little Lucy tied up her hair, And said on her knees her favorite prayer. And while on her pillow she softly lay, She knew nothing more till again it was day. And all things said to the beautiful sun, '^ Good-morning ! good-morning ! our work is begun/^ R. M. MiLNES. THE BLESSING OF LABOR. Labor gives rest from the sorrow^s that greet us — Rest from the petty vexations that meet us ; Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us ; Rest from temptations that lure us to ill ; Work ! and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow ; Work ! thou shalt ride over care's coming billow, Work with a stout heart and resolute will. 5* 54 GOLDEN SONGS. "Work for some good, be it ever so slowly, Cherish some plant, be it ever so lowly; Labor ! Such labor is noble and holy ; Let thy good deeds be thy prayer to thy God. Mrs. Osgood. SPEAK GENTLY. Speak gently : it is better far To rule by love than fear; Speak gently : let not harsh words mar The good we might do here. Speak gently to the aged one : Grieve not the care-worn heart ; The sands of life are nearly run — Let such in peace depart. Speak gently, kindly to the ])oor : Let no harsh tones be heard ; They have enough they must endure Without an unkind word. GOLDEN SOXGS. 55 Speak gently : 'tis a little thing Dropped in the heart's deep well ; The good, the joy that it may bring Eternity shall tell. THE CHILD'S FIRST GRIEF. Oh call my brother back to me ; I cannot play alone ; The summer comes with flower and bee : Where has my brother gone ? The butterfly is glancing bright Across the sunbeam's track ; I care not now to chase his flight ; Oh call my brother back. "He would not hear thy voice, my child; He may not come to thee : The face that once like spring-time smiled, On earth no more thou'lt see ; A rose's bright, brief life of joy, Such unto him was given ; Go, thou must play alone, my boy; Thy brother is in heaven." 56 GOLDEN SONGS. And has he left his birds and flowers? And must I call in vain? And througb the long, long summer hours Will he not come again ? And by the brook and in the glade Are all our wanderings o'er ? Oh when my brother with me played Would I had loved him more ! Mrs. Hemans. PRIDE AND HUMILITY. How proud we are, how fond of show ! We call our clothing "rich'' and "new,'' AVhen the poor sheep and silkworm wore The stuff that makes them long before. The tulip and the butterfly Wear a far gayer coat than I ; liCt me be dressed fine as I will, Flies, worms, birds, flowers surpass me still. There is a pure and lovely dress I pray my God to give to me — My Saviour's robe of righteousness, And for my crown, Humility. GOLDEX SONGS. 57 EVENING HYMN. Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear rae ; Bless thy little lambs to-night ; Through the darkness be thou near me, Watch my sleep till morning light. All the day thy hand liast led me, And I thanlv thee for thy care; Thou hast clothed me, warmed me, fed me; Listen to my evening j)rayer. Let my sins be all forgiven, Bless the friends I love so ^Yell ; Take me when I die to heaven, Happy there with thee to dwell. M. L. Duncan. TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT. Touch not the tempting cup, my boy, though urged by friend or foe ; Dare when the tempter urges most, dare nobly say Xo ! no ! The warning given from on high Shall tell your soul the reason why. 58 GOLDEX SOXGS. Touch not the tempting cup, my boy, in righteousness be brave, Take not the first, the fatal step toward a drunkard's grave ; The widow's groan, the orphan's sigh Shall tell your soul the reason why. ROBINS. A VERY pretty sight tliis morning I did see, Four little robins sitting on a tree; A bright red cherry one of them did pull; It was large and ripe and very beautiful. So he gave it to his mate as if wishing her to see, And passed it along to each of the three; And then they all began to eat a little piece, Stopping to whistle, Oh how very nice ! And when they had eaten it all so lovingly, They flew away again, singing right merrily; These little robins, living so happily, Teach many lessons sweet and dear to me. GOLDEN SONGS. 59 How boys can harai them I do not know. And be so cruel to them and make them fear us so. Miss Taylor, MRS. LOFTY AND I Mrs. Lofty keeps a carriage — so do I ; She has dapple grays to draw it — none have I ; She's no prouder with her coachman than am I With my blue-eyed, laughing baby, trund- ling by ; I hide his face lest she should see The cherub boy, and envy me. Mrs. Lofty has her jewels — so have I; She wears hers upon her bosom — inside I ; She will leave hers at death's portals by and by ; I shall bear the treasure with me when I die ; For I have love and she has gold ; She counts her wealth, mine can't be told. 60 GOLDEN SONGS. Her fine husband has white fingers — mine has not ; He could give his bride a palace — mine a cot ; Hers comes home beneath the starlight — ne'er cares she ; Mine comes in the purple twilight, kisses me, And prays that He who turns life's sands Will hold his loved ones in his hands. She has those that love her station — none have I ; But Fve one true heart beside me — glad am I ; I'd not change it for a kingdom, no not I ; God will weigh it in his balance, by and by ; And then the difference will define 'Tvvixt Mrs. Lofty's wealth and mine. LET IT PASS. Be not swift to take offence — let it pass ! Anger is a foe to sense — let it pass ! Brood not darkly o'er a wrong, Which will disappear ere long ; Rather sing tliis cheery song : Let it pass ! let it pass ! GOLDEN SOXGS. 61 Strife corrodes the purest mind ; let it pass ! As the unregarded wind, let it pass ! Any vulgar souls that live May condemn without reprieve ; ^Tis the noble who forgive ; let it pass ! let it pass ! Echo not an angry word ; let it pass ! Think how often you have erred ; let it pass ! Since our joys must pass away Like the dew-drops on the spray. Wherefore should our sorrows stay? let them pass ! let them pass ! If for good you've taken ill ; let it pass ! Oh be kind and gentle still ; let it pass ! Time at last makes all things straight; Let us not resent, but wait, And our triumph shall be great ; let it pass ! let it pass ! Bid your anger to depart ; let it pass I Lay these homely words to heart ; let it pass i 6 62 GOLDEN SONGS. Follow not the giddy throng ; Better to be wronged than wrong; Therefore sing the cheery song, let it pass ! let it pass ! All the Year Round. SHADOWS. The candles are lighted, the fire blazes bright ; The cnrtains are drawn to keep out the cold air; What makes you so grave, little darling, to- night?- And where is your smile, little quiet one? where ? Mamma, I see something so dark on the wall ; It moves up and down and it looks very strange ; Sometimes it is large and sometimes it is small ; Pray tell me what is it, and why does it change ? GOLDEX SOXGS. 63 It's only my shadow that puzzles you so, And there is your own close beside it, my love; Now run round the room, it will go where you go ; When you sit, ^twill be still; when you rise, it will move. These wonderful shadows are made by the light From the fire and from candles, upon us that falls ; Were we not sitting here, all that place would be bright. But the light can't shine through us, you know, on the walls. And when you are out some fine day in the sun, I'll take you where shadows of apple trees lie ; And houses and cottages too, every one Casts a shade when the sun shineth bright in the sky. 64 GOLDEX SONGS. Xow hold up your mouth, and give me a sweet kiss ; Our shadows kiss too, don't you see it quite plain ? *^0h yes — thank you, mamma, for telling me this; I shall not be afraid of a shadow again. '^ M. L. Duncan, "PATCH IE." The bell had rung, the school was out, And from the hall with busy feet The boys rushed forth with laugh and shout, And crowded through the village street, Like prisoners from their cells broke loose, Escaping from the calaboose. Across the street, and all alone, A small boy walked with rapid gait. Like one unknowing and unknown. With head erect and form so straight; He heeded not the crowd that cried, '• See ' ratchie' on the other side !" GOLDEN SONGS. 65 I wondered much why this should be, But when I looked I knew too w^ell : The noblest of them all was he ; But sad to think, more sad to tell, He from the crowd had been detached Because his pantaloons w^ere patched ! No answering word escaped him there ; I watched him as he climbed the hill. Then thought, ^^Each other's burdens bear, And thus the law of Christ fulfill f And so I joined him on the road, Hoping to lighten his sad load. I spoke in loving words and kind ; He, smiling, looked up in my face — He had a true and noble mind — And answered with a manly grace, ^^My father, sir, has long been dead, And mother earns our daily bread. " To school she sends me every day, I do the best there that I can. And mother says she'll get her pay When I grow up to be a man ; 6* 66 GOLDEN SONGS. And, sir, I hope that I shall be All that my mother wishes me. ^^They call me ^Patchie;' I don't oare,'^ Said he, while passing through.the gate ; *' It's what Ave are, not what we w^ear. That makes us good and makes us great ;'^ He touched his cap, and said good-night; I whispered, ^' Noble, brave and right." I started on my homeward way : Not only boys, but men, I thought, Pass by the poor ones every day ; Only the rich and grand are sought; This w^orld, so full of foolish pride, Puts ** Patchie'' on the other side. Mrs. S. T. Perry. KATIE'S DREAM. It was a warm and sultry afternoon, And little Katie's weary, tangled head Fell slowly down upon her open book. And Katie slept as sound as if in bed. GOLDEN SONGS. 67 And in her dreams her little brother came (Dear little Willie^ who to heaven had gone), And pressed his face to hers, and called her name AVith many a loving and endearing tone. And she had kissed his little rosy cheek, Whose pretty dimples still were lingering there, Looked in his laughing, deep blue eyes once more, Played with the ringlets of his golden hair, *^Stay with me, Willie! darling boy!" she cried ; *^ For though the angels are so bright and fair. They cannot love you as your sister loves — Oh, Willie dear, do not stay always there !'^ Just then a sudden stir was in the room. And on her ear the teacher's loud voice broke, 68 GOLDEN SONGS. ^^ Children, a storm is coming ! hasten home ;" Willie went back to heaven, and Katie woke ! She rubbed her eyes, and there came rolling down Great tears upon her flushed and fevered cheek. ^^Why, what's the matter dear?" said little Bell, But Katie only sobbed, and could not speak. At length she said, "Oh, Bell, my Willie came — But now I know it only was a dream ; For mother says he^ll never come to us, But some day we shall go away to him." " Why didn't you go and see him, then ?" said Bell. " Why, dear, I do not know the Vay ; You know 1 was so very sick myself, I could not sec where they all went that day."' GOLDEX SONGS. 69 '* Then I can tell you, darling, where he^s gone ; I watched them till they turned into the gate/' *^What, heaven's gatef' said Katy. ^^Oh let's run, And find dear Willie ere it be too late !'' Then hand in hand the eager children ran To find the gate of heaven and little Will ; The rain in torrents beat upon their heads, But only made them run the faster still. ^^ There ! that's the place !" said Bell, as up- ward rose The cemetery's heavy iron gate. *^ Now, hurry, Katie ! hurry ! for you know Our mother said we must not stay out late." The rain beat on the little curly head As loud she knocked, then louder than before : " Willie ! dear AVillie ! sister Katie calls, Please bring the key and open heaven's door !^' 70 GOLDEN SONGS. ''I hear him, Bell ! I hear his little feet!" And smiles broke o'er her faee like sun through cloud. "No, darling, ^tis the pattering rain-drops' beat;' "Well, now, I'll call him very loud/' "Willie !" the little piercing voice then cried, With half a panting sob and half a shriek — " Willie, do come ! poor sister's wet and tired, Waiting so long to kiss your little cheek." "Perhaps he's playing with the angels, dear !" said Bell, "And does not hear when you his name repeat." "Ah, now he's coming, sure ! for I know well The pretty patter of his baby feet. "No, no, he does not come. Oh, little Will, How long you leave me standing in the rain ! Bell, you run home, but I must wait here still, For I can never find the way again," GOLDEX ^OXGS. 71 At leiio:th came those who Ion 2: had searched, and late For Katie through the darkness and the storm ; Down on the ground, close by the graveyard gate, They found the little senseless, prostrate form. He did not come to her, but she had gone To him, where there is no more cloud nor sea, And through earth^s darkness, gloom and pelting storm Kate had found heaven's gate, and entered in. From thee, sweet Katie, let us learn aright — Not at death's door to seek the way to light. For not to sight, but unto faith, ^tis given. To find the golden gate that leads to hea- ven. B. H. B. 72 GOLDEN SONGS. CHRIST AND THE LITTLE ONES. ^' The ]\Iaster has come over Jordan/' Said Hannah, the mother, one day ; " He is healing the people who throng him With a touch of his finger, tliey say." ^^And now I shall carry the children, Little Rachel, and Samuel, and John ; I shall carry the baby Esther, For the Lord to look upon." The father looked at her kindly, But he shook his head and smiled : ^^Now who but a doting mother Would think of a thing so w^ild?'' ^^ If the children were tortured by^demons Or dying of fever, 'twere well, Or had they the taint of the leper, Like many in Israel." "Nay, do not hinder me, Nathan; I feel such a burden of care If I carry it to the Master, Perhaps I shall leave it there. GOLBEX SOXGS. 73 ^•If he lay liis hand on the children, My heart ^vill be lighter I know, For a bless hig for ever and ever Will follow them as they go/^ So over the hills of Judah, Along by the vine-rows green, With Rachel asleep on her bosom, And Esther her brothers between, ^Mong the people who hung on his teaching, Or waited his touch and his word. Through the row of proud Pharisees listening, She pressed to the feet of the Lord. ^^]N"ow why should'st thou hinder the Master,^^ Said I^ter, ^^with children like these? Seest not how from morning till evening He toucheth and healeth disease?'^ Then Christ said, ^^ Forbid not the children; Permit them to come unto me ]^ And he took in his arms little Esther, And Rachel he set on his knee. 7 74 GOLDEN SONGS. And the heavy heart of tlie mother Was lifted all earth-care above, As he laid his hands on the brothers And blessed them with tenderest love — As he said of the babe in his bosom, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven ]^ And strength for all duty and trial That hour to her spirit was given. THE WOOD-MOUSE Do you know the little wood-mouse, The pretty little thing That sits among the forest leaves Beside the forest spring ? Its fur is as red as the chestnut, And it is small and slim; It leads a life most innocent Within the forest dim. GOLDEN SONGS. 75 ^Tis a timid, gentle creature, And seldom comes in sight ; It has a long and wiry tail, And eyes both black and bright. It makes its nest of soft, dry moss In a hole so deep and strong ; And there it sleeps secure and warm The dreary winter long. And though it keeps no almanac, It knows when jflowers are springing ; And w^aketh to its summer life When nightingales are singing. Upon the boughs the squirrel sits, The wood-mouse plays below ; And plenty of food it finds itself Where the beech and chestnut grow. In the hedge-sparrow's nest he sits When its summer brood is fled, And picks the berries from the bough Of the hawthorn overhead. 76 GOLDEN SOXGS. I saw a little wood-mouse once, liike a monarch in his hall. With the green, green moss beneath his feet, Sit under a mushroom tall. I saw him sit and his dinner eat All under the forest-tree — His dinner of cliestnuts ripe and red ; And he ate it heartily. I wish you could have seen him there ; It did my spirit good To see the small thing God liad made Thus eating in the wood. I saw that he regardeth them — Those creatures weak and small ; Their table in the wild is spread By Him who cares for all. Marv How ITT. riif Kii-li^h Cliil.l. (/olden Sovga. GOLDEN SONGS. 77 AN ENGLISH CHILD IN THE DAYS OF WICKLIFFE. A LITTLE child, she read a book beside an open door, And as she read page after page she won- dered more and more ; Her littk finger carefully went pointing out the place ; Her golden locks hung drooping down and shadowed half her face. The open book lay on her knee ; her eyes on it were bent, And as she read page after page* her color came and went ; She sat upon a mossy stone, an open door beside, And round, for miles on every side, stretched out a forest wide. The summer sun shone on the trees, the deer lay in the shade. And overhead the singing birds their pleas- ant clamor made ; 7* 78 GOLDEN SONGS. There was no garden round about, yet flowers were growing free, The cowslip and the daffodil, upon the forest lea. The butterfly w^ent flitting by, the bees were in the flowers, ' But the little child sat steadfastly as she had sat for hours. ^^ Why sit ye here, my little maid?'^ an aged pilgrim spake; The child looked upward from her book, like one but just awake. Back fell her locks of golden hair, and solemn was her look. And thus she answered w^itlessly : '^Oh, sir, I read this book/' "And what is there within that book to win a child like thee? Up! join thy mates, the singing-birds, and frolic like the bee." GOLDEN SONGS. V9 ^^ Nay, sir ! I cannot leave the book ; I love it more than play ; I have read legends, but this one saw never till to-day; And there is something in this book that makes all care begone, And yet I weep, I know not why, as I go readino; on.'^ '^Who art thou, child, that thou shouldst read a book with so much heed ? Books are for clerks; the king himself hscs much ado to read/' ^^ My father is a forester, a bow^man keen and good ; He keeps the deer within their bounds, and worketh in the w^ood. ^^ My mother died at Candlemas ; the flowers are all in blow, Upon her grave at Allenby, down in the val-e below/' 80 GOLDEN SONGS. This said, unto her book she turned as stead- fast as before. ^^Xay !'' said the pilgrim, ^^nay not yet, and you must tell me more. "Who was it taught you thus to read?^' " Ah, sir, it was my mother; She taught me both to read and spell, and so she taught my brother ; My brother dwelt at Allenby, with the good monk alwav, And this new book he brought to me, but only for one day. " Oh, sir, it is a Avondrous book — better than Charlemagne ; And be you pleased to leave me now, I'll read in it again.'' " Nay, read to me," the pilgrim said ; and the little child went on To read of Christ, as is set forth in the gospel of St. John. GOLDEX SONGS. 81 On, on slie read, and gentle tears adown her cheeks did glide; The pilgrim sat with bended head, and he Avept by her side ; " I\^e heard, ^^ said he, " the archbishop — I^ve heard the Pope at Rome — But never did their spoken words thus to my spirit come. " The book, it is a blessed book ; its name, what may it be f^ Said she, "They are the words of Christ that I have read to thee, Now done into the Eno:lish tono:ue for folks unlearned as me/^ "Give me the Book and let me read — my soul is strangely stirred ; They are such words of love and truth as I ne'er before have heard /^ The little girl gave up the book, and the pil- grim old and brown With reverend lips did kiss the l3age, then on the stone sat down. 82 GOLDEN SONGS. And aye he read page after page; page after page he turned ; And as he read their blessed words his heart within him burned, Still, still the book the old man read, as he would ne'er have done ; From the hour of noon he read the book until the set of sun. The little child she brought him out a cake of wheaten bread. And it lay unbroken at eventide, nor did he raise his head ; Then came the sturdy forester along the homeward track, Whistling aloud a hunting-tune, with a slaiu deer on his back. Loud greeting gave the forester unto the pil- grim poor; d man rose with thoi entered at the door ; grim poor; The old man rose with thouo;htful brow and GOLDEX SONGS. 83 They two they sat them down to meat, and the pilgrim 'gan to tell How he had eaten at Olivet and drank at ' Jacob's well. And then he told him he had knelt where'er our Lord had prayed ; How he had In the garden been and the tomb where he was laid ; And then he turned unto the book and read in English plain How Christ had died on Calvary — how he had risen again. As water to the parched soul, as to the hungry bread, So fell upon the woodman's soul each word the pilgrim read ; Thus through the midnight did they read until the dawn of day And then came in the woodman's son to take the book away. 84 GOLDEN SONGS. All quick and troubled was his speech; his face was pale with dread ; For he said the kiug had made a law that the book should not be read, For it was such a fearful heresy, the holy abbot said. Mary IIowitt. THE TEMPEST AT SEA, We w^ere crowded in the cabin, Not a soul would dare to sleep, It was midnight on the waters. And a storm was on the deep. 'Tis a fearful thing in winter To be shattered by the blast. And to hear the rattling trumpet Thunder, " Cut away the mast V^ So w^e shuddered there in silence, For the stoutest held his breath; While the hungry sea was roaring, And the breakers talked with death. GOLDEN SONGS. 85 As thus we sat in darkness, Each one busy in his prayers, '' We are lost !'^ the captain shouted, As he stao^o;ere<:l down the stairs. But his little daughter whispered, As she took his icy hand, ^' Isn't Cod upon the ocean. Just the same as on the land ?'' Then we kissed the little maiden, And we spoke in better cheer. And we anchored safe in harbor When the morn was shining clear. J. T. Fields. THE LOST CHILD. Alone, beneath the heavy shade, In forest thick and wild^ With timid eye and footstep strayed A poor bewildered child ; Along the cold swamp's weedy edge He held his devious way, 8 86 GOLDEX SONGS. Where colled and hissino; in the hedo;e The hideous serpent lay : The hungry wolf witli cry of death Lea])ed past him in the chase ; The wild deer lingered in his path To scan the stranger's face. And pale and full of agony That little face appeared ; And terror filled his soft blue eye At every sound he heard; His yellow curls were bare and wet, His little coat was torn, And stains of blood were on his feet, By reckless travel worn : His little heart was sick w^ith fear. His brain was wild and weak. And hunger-pains, so hard to bear. Had blenched his rosy cheek. And still by every mossy spot Wlicre pleasant berries hide, He sought, and when he found them not, Oh bitterly he cried ; GOLDEN SONGS. 87 Four days that tangled forest through He sought his home in vain ; Fond hearts were breaking there^ he knew, To see his face again. ^^ Mother ! O mother V^ was his cry, Until his voice grew weak ; And throat and tongue were parched and dry, And then he could not speak. The silent shades are gathering now With dark and dewy wings, Forming in dell and valley low Dim shades of fearful things; His frame with curdling horror shook, His heart grew cold as clay ; He crept into a sheltered nook. Crouched down and tried to pray ; And then he thought that God was near To watch above his bed. And every agonizing fear And phantom horror fled. The pangs of hunger died away, And grief withdrew its sting ; 88 GOLDEN SONGS. And slumber o'er his spirit lay, Soft as an angel's wing; And then he dreamed sweet dreams of home, With all its love and bliss — The rural feast, the lighted room, The mother's tender kiss ; The little face grew calm and white, His slumber still and deep; Sweet boy, thy sorrows end to-night — Thou shalt not wake to weep. *' Mother," he whispered languidly, And hugged the dewy sod ; 'Tis done ! he wakes in ecstasy. And sees the face of God ; Tell us, ye white-haired wanderers In life's dark devious ways. Ye who have sown your path with tears So many weary days, Ou(yht we to mourn for him who lies In that wild dell alone — Whose weary feet and weeping eyes. Have found their rest so soon ? Mrs. PiERsoN. GOLDEN SONGS. 89 THE LITTLE MATCH-GIRL Little Gretciiex, little Gretclieii Wanders up and down the street; The snow is on her yellow hairs, The frost is at her feet ; The rows of long dark houses Without look cold and damp Beneath the struggling moonbeams, By the flicker of the lamp ! The clouds ride fast as horses, The wind blows from the north, But no one cares for Gretchen, And no one looketh forth Within the lighted houses Are merry faces bright, And happy hearts are watching out The Old Year's latest night. The board is spread with plenty Where the smiling kindred meet; But the frost lies on the pavement Beneath poor Gretchen's feet ; 90 GOLDEN SONGS. With the little box of matches ^ No one had bought that day, And the thin, thin, tattered mantle The wind blows every way. She clingeth to the railing, She sliivers in the gk)om : There are parents sitting snugly By firelight in the room ; And groups of busy children — Withdrawing just the tips Of rosy fingers, pressed in vain Against their bursting lips — With grave and earnest faces Are whispering to each othei Of presents for the New Year, made For father or for mother ! But no one speaks to Gretchen, And no one hears her speak, No breath of little whispers Comes warmly to her cheek. No little ones are round her : Ah me ! that there should be. GOLDEX SONGS. 91 With SO much happhiess on earth, So much of misery ! Surely they who are blessed Should scatter blessings round ; As laden boughs in autumn fling Their ripe fruits to the ground. The best love man can offer To the God of Love, be sure, Is kindness to his little one.% And bounty to his poor ! Little Gretchen, little Gretchen, Goes shivering on her way; There's no one looketh out at her, There's no one bids her stay. Her home is cold and desolate — No smile, no food, no fire, But children clamorous for bread. And an impatient sire; So she sits down in the angle Where two great houses meet. And curleth up beneath her. For warmth, her little feet. 92 GOLDEX SONGS. She looks upon the cold wall, And on the cold, cold sky. And wonders if the shining stars Are bright fires up on high ! She heard a clock strike slowly Up high in a church tower, With such a sad and solemn tone Telling the midnight hour. And she thought, as she sat lonely And listened to the chimes. Of wondrous things that she had loved To hear in bygone times ; She heard again the stories Her mother used to tell, And the cradle-songs she used to sing When summer's twilight fell — Of good men and of angels And of the Holy Child Who was cradled in a manger, All in the winter wild ; Who was poor, and cold, and hungry. And desolate, and lone; GOLDEN SONGS. 93 And slie thought the singing told her He was ever with his own! '^ Oh if the poor and hungry And w^eary ones are his, How good of him to look on me In such a place as this !'^ Colder it grows and colder, But slie does not feel it now, For the pressure at her heart And the weight upon her brow. But she struck one little match On the wall so cold and bare, That she might look around her And see if he was there ; And now the match was kindled, And by the light it threw It seemed to little Gretehen The wall was cleft in two ; And she could see the room within — A room all warm and bright, With the fire all red and glowing, And the tapers all alight. 94 GOLDEN SONGS. And there were kindred gatliered Round a table ri(*hly spread With heaps of goodly viands — Red wine and pleasant bread She could smell the fragrant savor, She could hear what they did say ; Then all was darkness once a2:ain — The match had burned away. She struck another quickly, And now she seemed to see, Within the same warm chamber, A glorious Christmas tree. The branches were all laden With things that children prize — • Nice gifts for boy and maiden. She saw them with her eyes. She almost seemed to touch them, And join the welcome shout: Then darkness fell around her. For the little match was out. Another, yet another, she Has tried; they will not light, GOLDEN SOXGS. 95 Till all her little store she took And struck with all her might. And the whole miserable place Was lighted with the glare, And lo ! there hung a little child Before her in the air. There w^ere blood-drops on his forehead, And a spear-wound in his side, And cruel nail-prints in his feet And in his hands spread wide. He looked on her so gently, She felt that he had known Pain, hunger, cold and sorrow, All equal to her own. He pointed to the laden board And to the Christmas tree. Then up to the cold sky, and said, ^' Will Gretchen come with me ?'^ The poor child felt her pulses fall, She felt her eyeballs swim. And a ringing sound was in her ears. Like her dead mother's hymn. 96 GOLDEN SONGS. She foklod both her tliiu cold hands, And turned from that bright board, And from the goklen gifts, and said, '' With thee— with thee, O Lord V The chilly winter morning Breaks up in the dull skies. O'er the city wrapped in vapor, On the spot where Gretchen lies. In her scanty, tattered garments, With her back against the wall, She sitteth cold and rigid. She answers not their call. They have lifted her up fearfully. And shuddered as they said, "It was a bitter, bitter night — The child is frozen dead !'' The angels sang their greeting For one more, redeemed from sin I Men said, " It was a bitter night; Would no one let her in ?" GOLDEN SOXGS. 97 And they shuddered as they spoke of her, And sighed : they couhl not see How much of happiness there was With so much misery. Hans Anderson. THE BLACKBERRY-GIRL Why, Phoebe, are you come so soon ? Where are your berries, child ? You surely have not sold them all — You had a basket piled. No, mother; as I climbed the fence The nearest way to town, My apron caught upon the stake, And so I tumbled down. I scratched my arm and tore my hair, But still would not complain ; And had my blackberries been safe, Should not have cared a grain. 9 98 GOLDEN SOXGS. But when T saw them on the ground All scattered by my side, I picked my empty basket up, And down I sat and cried. Just then a pretty little miss Chanced to be walking by; She stopped, and, looking pitiful, She begged me not to cry. Poor little girl, you fell, said she, And must be sadly hurt; Oh no, I cried, but see my fruit AH mixed with sand and dirt. Well, do not grieve for that, said she; Go home and get some more : Ah no, for I have stripped the vines — These were the last they bore. My father, miss, is very poor, And works iu yonder stall ; He has so many little ones He cannot clothe us all. GOLDEN SONGS. 99 I always longed to go to church, But I could never go, For when I asked him for a gown, He always answered, No. There's not a father in the world Who loves his children more; I'd get you one with all my heart, But, Phoebe, I am poor. So, when the blackberries were ripe, He said to me one day, Phoebe, if you will take the time That's given you for play. And gather blackberries enough, And carry them to town, To buy your bonnet and your shoes, ril try to get a gown. Oh, miss, I fairly jumped for joy, My spirits were so light ; And so when I had leave to play, I picked with all my might. 100 GOLDEN SONGS. 1 sold enough to get my shoes, About a week ago ; And these, if they had not been spilt, Would buy my bonnet too. But now they're gone, they all are gone, And I can get no more ; And Sundays I must stay at home, Just as I did before. And, mother, then I cried again As hard as I could cry, And looking up I saw the tear Was falling from her eye. She caught her bonnet from her head, Here ! here ! she cried, take this ; No, no indeed — I fear your ma Would be offended, miss. Mamma! no, never; she delights All sor-row to beguile. And 'tis the sweetest joy she feels To make the wretched smile. GOLDEX SOXGS. 101 She taught me, when I had enough, To share it with the poor, . And never let a needy child Go empty from the door. So take it, for you need not fear OfiFending her, you see ; I have another too, at home. And one's enough for me. So then I took it ; here it is — For pray wRat could I do ? And, mother, I shall love that miss As long as I love you. THE FATHER OF THE FATHERLESS. I KNEW a widow very poor. Who four small children had ; The oldest was but six years old, A gentle, modest lad, 9» 102 GOLDEN SONGS. And very hard this widow toiled To feed her children four; A noble heart the mother had, Though she was very poor. To labor she would leave her home ; Her children must be fed ; And glad was she when she could buy A shilling's worth of bread. And this was all the children had On any day to eat ; They drank their water, ate their bread, But never tasted meat. One day the snow^ was falling fast, And piercing was the air; I thought that I would go and see How these poor children were. Ere long I reached their cheerless home; 'Twas searclied by every breeze ; AV^hen, going in, the eldest child I saw ui)on his knees. GOLDEN SONGS. 103 I paused to listen to the boy ; He never raised his head, But still went on and said, '' Give us This day our daily bread V^ I waited till the child w^as done, Still listening as he prayed ; And wdien he rose, I asked him, '' Why That prayer he then had said/^ ^^ Why, sir," said he, ^' this morning, when My mother went away, She wept because she said she had No bread for us to-day. ^' She said we children now must starve, Our father being dead ; And then I told her not to cry, For I would get some bread. " ^ Our Father !^ sir, the prayer begins ; Which made me think that he, As we have no kind father here. Would our kind Father be. 104 GOLDEN SONGS. ^^ And tlien you know, sir, that the prayer Asks God for bread each day ; So in the corner, sir, I went ; That was wliat made me pray.'^ I quickly left that wretched room And went with fleeting feet. And very soon was back again With food enough to eat. " I thought God heard me V' said the boy ; I answered with a nod ; I could not speak, but much I thought Of that boy's faith in God. Dr. Hanks. LITTLE WILLIE AND THE APPLE. Little Willie stood under an apple-tree old— The fruit was all shining with crimson and gold; Hanging temptingly low, how he longed for a bite, Though he knew if he took one, it wouldn't be rio;ht ! GOLDEN SONGS. 105 Said he, ^' I don't see why my father should say, ' Don't touch the old apple-tree Willie, to- day ;' I shouldn't have thought — now they're hang- ing so low- When I asked for just one, he would answer me, ' ^o !' " He would never find out if I took but just;, one; And they do look so good shining out in the sun ; There are hundreds and hundreds, and he wouldn't miss So paltry a little red apple as this.'^ He stretched forth his hand but a low, mournful strain Came wandering dreamily over his brain ; In his bosom a beautiful harp had long laid. That the angel of conscience quite frequently played. 106 GOLDEN SONGS. And he sung, ^^Litlle Willie, beware! Oh beware ! Your father has gone, but your Maker is there ; How sad you would feel, if you heard tho Lord say, ^ This dear little boy stole an apple to-day !' '^ Then Willie turned round, and as still as a mouse •Crept slowly and carefully into the house; In his own little chamber he knelt down to pray That the Lord would forgive him, and please not to say, "Little AVillie almost stole an apple to-day/' M. A. D. A LOST DAY. CAiiL that day lost whose setting sun Sees at thy haiid no good thing done. GOLDEN SONGS. 107 LITTLE BESSIE. Hug me closer, closer, mother ; Put your arms around me tight ; I am cold and tired^ mother ; And I feel so strange to-night. Something hurts me here, dear mother, Like a stone upon my breast; Oh I wonder, wonder, mother, Why it is I cannot rest. All the day, while you were working, As I lay upon my bed, I was trying to be patient, And to think of Avhat you said ; How the kind and blessed Jesus Loves his lambs to watch and keep ; And I wished he'd come and take me In his arms, that I might sleep. Just before the lamp was lighted, Just before the children came, While the room was very quiet, I heard some one call my name. 108 GOLDEX SONGS. All at once the windows opened ; In a field were lambs and sheep — Some from out a brook were drinking, Some vieve lying fast asleep. But I could not see the Saviour, Though I strained my eyes to see; And I wondered, if he saw me, If he'd speak to such as me; •In a moment I was looking Ou a world so bright and fair, Which was full of little children. And they seemed so happy there. They were singing, oh how sweetly ! Sweeter songs I never heard ; They were singing sweeter, mother, Than can sing our little bird ; And while I my breath was holding, . One so bright upon me smiled That I knew it must be Jesus, And he said, ^' Come here, my child !'' ^^ Come up here, my little Bessie — Come up here and live with me ; GOLDEN SOXGS. 109 Where the children never suffer But are happier than you see !' Then I thought of all you told me Of that bright and happy land ; I was going when you called me, When you came and kissed my hand. ^^ And at first I felt so sorry You had called me; I would go — Oh to sleep and never suffer ! Mother, don't be crying so ; Hug me closer, closer mother ! Put your arms around me tight; Oh how much I love you, mother, But I feel so strano;e to-ni^rht I'' And the mother pressed her closer To her overburdened breast; On the heart so near to breaking, Lay the heart so near at rest. In the solemn hour of midnight. In the darkness calm and deep, Lying on her mother's bosom, Little Bessie fell asleep. A. D. F. PvANDOLPH,. 10 110 GOLDEN SONGS. THE STRANGE CHILD'S CHRISTMAS. There went a stranger child, As Christmas eve closed in, Through the streets of a town whose windows shone With the warmth and light within. It stopped at every house The Christmas trees to see, On that festive night, when they shone so bright. And the child sighed bitterly. The little child wept and said, " This night hath every one A Christmas tree, that they glad may be. And I alone have none l^' ^^ Ah, when I lived at home. From brother's and sister's hand I had my share, but there's none to care For me in the stran:ht an ano-el bnVht Would watch beside them as they slept. AVhen dimly dawned the light they rose; Chris looked around with chattering teeth ; The sheet was spread from foot to head ; He knew his mother lay beneath. ^^ Let's go out to the pump and wash. As she would always have us do ; We'd better mind about her words, I think," said John ; " Chris, what say you?" ^^ Let's go," said Chris ; '' besides, you know, We've got our breakfast now to find :" They went out in the narrow street; The shining angel went beliind. A woman at the baker's shop, Wlio knew the children of the dead, Was touched with pity as tliey passed, And gave them each a roll of bread. GOLDEN SONGS. 141 " Tis true/' said little Christopher ; '' Yuu may be sure the angel's come; She never gave us bread before — No, not the value of a crumb.'^ The next day, and the next to that, The promise of the King was kept, And every night that angel bright Stood by to guard them as they slept. On Wednesday the people came And took the woman's corpse away ; Two little mourners walked behind, And saw the grave wherein it lay. Fast fell the tears upon their cheeks, AVhen little Christy raised his eyes, And said, '' Oh, mother, how I wish I were with you above the skies!'' 'Twas but a thought passed through his mind, When soft a whisper seemed to come, '^Be patient, little Christopher; You are not very far from home.'' 142 GOLDEN SONGS. The minister said, ^^ Dust unto dust;" And then the poor boys left the place — Two friendless boys in London town, Oh was not theirs a hapless case ? They ^vandered up and down the streets, And then went home to sleep once more, And in the morning left the room, And took the key and locked the door. They found the landlord at his house, And said, '^ Please, sir, our mother's dead; She could not pay up all the rent, And we have got to earn our bread. " But please, sir, we have brought the key, And left some things upon the shelf; And there's the blanket and the bed ; My mother thought youM pay yourself.'^ ^^ And so she\s gone," the landlord said, ^' And you are left to face the strife? Well, I will say I never knew A better woman in my life. GOLDEX SONGS. 143 " Of course I'll take the things, my boy, For right is right, and so I must ; But there's a shilling for you both : You'll find it hard to earn your crust.'^ They thanked the man and left the house ; ^a'll tell you what we'll do," said John; ^^ This shilling here will buy a broom; We'll sweep a crossing of our own. " We won't go to the workhouse, Chris, But act like men and do our best; Our mother said, ^ A crust, well earned, Is sweeter than a pauper's feast.^ '^ ^^ Oh yes ; we'll work like honest boys, And if our mother should look down. She'd like to see us with a broom And with a crossing of our own.'^ Away they went wuth anxious hopes. And long they hunted here and there, Until they found a dirty place Not very far from Leicester Square. 144 golde:n' songs. And here at once they took tlieir stand, And swept a pathway broad and neat, Where ladies in their silken gowns Might cross and hardly soil their feet. The people hurried to and fro, And midst the jostle, jar and noise, And thinking of their own affairs, They hardly saw the little boys. Not so with all ; some caught a sight Of little Christy's anxious eyes, And put a penny in his cap, And every penny was a prize. At last the streets began to clear, And people dropped off, one by one ; "Let's go,'' said little Christopher; " My pocket is quite heavy, John." They counted up the pence with glee. And went away to buy some bread, And had a little left to pay For lodging in a decent bed. GOLDEN SOXGS. 145 Next clay John kept his crossing clean, Swept olF the mud and left it dry, And little Christy held his cap, "^ But did not tease the passers-by. And many a one a penny gave Who marked the pale child^s modest way: Thus they'd a shilling left in hand When they went home on Saturday. The woman at the baker's shop, In kind remembrance of the dead, Had found the boys a lodging-place Where they could have a decent bed, "Let's go to church/' said Christopher; '^ She'd be so glad to see us there ; You recollect she often said, ^ Boys, don't forget the house of prayer !' '^ "We're very shabby," John replied, " And hardly fit for such a place ; But I will do the best I can To polish up my hands and face.'^ 13 146 GOLDEX SONGS. Clear rang the bells that Sabbath morn As they went briskly up the street; And -out of sight the angel bright Walked close behind with shining feet. Some idle boys, who played about, Threw stones and mocked as they went in ; ^' Ay, let them mock aw^ay,'' said John : " We need not care for them a pin.'^ A lady watched them as they sat, And when the service all was done, Said, " Do you go to Sunday-school?'^ ^' No, ma'am, but we should like," said John. She told them both the place and time ; They went that afternoon to school ; The boys were playing in the street. And said to John, *^ You are a fool — "To go to that old stupid place; We know a trick worth two of that:" Said John, *^ I mean to be a man. And that's the trick I'm aiming: at." GOLDEN SONGS. 147 PART SECOND. The second week was bleak and cold, A drizzling rain fell day by day, And with their wet umbrellas up The people harried on their way. And no one thought about the boys, • Who patiently stood sweeping there; And sometimes over Christy's face There fell a shade of blank despair. Discouraged, wet and weary oft. Cold, shivering to their bed they crept; But still all night, that angel bright Stood by to guard them as they slept. And these poor boys would sleep as well As rich men on their beds of down, And wake up with a ligliter heart Than many a king who wears a crown. But winter-time came on apace. And colder still the weather grew, 148 GOLDEN SONGS. And when they left the street at night Their clothes were often wet quite through. Their coats were almost worn to rags, Their bare feet rested on the stones ; But still they ahvays went to church, And to the school on afternoons. And never joined with wicked boys, . And never stopped away to play, But tried to do their very best, And swept the crossing every day. One day a boy came up and said, ^' I know a dodge worth two of that; Just take to picking pockets, lad, Arid don't hold out that ra^-cved hat.'' -*feo^ ^^ What, steal!" said little Christopher; " Our dodge is twice as good as that ; We earn our bread like honest folks;" And so he answered tit-for-tat. ** Well, that's your own lookout, of course; For my part, I don't see the fun GOLDEN SONGS. 149 Of starving at this crossing here, When money is so easy won/^ ^^ How do you manage that ?'^ said John. ^' Oh ! come with us, w^e'U have you taught ; YouVe but a trick or two to learn — To grip the things, and not be caught." '^But if you should be caught?" said John, '* The end of that would spoil your fun," " Oh we know how to manage that ; Come on ! I'll show you how 'tis done." '' What do you get to eat ?" said John, Who pondered on these boasting words. '' What get to eat ! — ^just what we choose — We eat and drink away like lords. " Xow, what d'ye say? Make up your mind ; I'm waited for, and must be gone, We've pretty work to-day on hand." '' Well, I sha'n't help to-day," said John. 13 * 150 GOLDEN SONGS. '^ The more fool you/' replied the boy, And went off whistling down the street; And black as night a wicked sprite Went after hiin Avith rapid feet. John went back slowly to his place, And grumbling to himself he said, ** I half repent I did not go, It is so hard to earn one's bread. " I dare say he gets in a day As much as we earn in a week ; I wish I'd gone." John muttered this ; To Christopher he did not speak. At night, as he went sauntering home. He loitered round a pastry-cook's. Till Christy called, "John, come along; You'll cat the cakes up with your looks !" ^* Well, Chris, I say 'tis very hard We never have good things to eat ; I'm tired of eating just that bread; I lon^r for somethino; nice and sweet." GOLDEN SOXGS. 151 ^^They do look nice/^ said little Chris, And lingered near with hankering eyes; ^' Which would you have, John, if you could? Fd have those jolly Christmas pies.'^ John answered in a grumbling tone, " Oh, I don't know, so let 'em be ; Some boys do get nice things to eat — Not honest boys like you and me.'^ ^^ Well, never mind,'' said little Chris ; ^^ You're out of sorts this evening, John; We'll both be rich maybe some day, And then we'll eat 'em up like fun.'^ '^ No chance of* that for us," said John ; " Our feet are now upon the stones ; We can't earn food and clothing too. And you are only skin and bones. '^ '^ 'Tis hard to work and not to eat ; But, John, you would not do what's bad I'^ *' No, I don't mean to steal — not I — But when thieves feast it makes one mad." 152 GOLDEX SONGS. And so John grumbled day by day, And longed for something good to eat, And sometimes looked out for the boy Who went off whistling down the street. And oh, indeed, 'twas very hard, When tired, hungry, cold and wet, To pass by all the eating-shops That looked so tempting in the street; To see the people going in To buy the puddings, cakes and pies, Whilst they could onjy stand outside And look at them with longing eyes. 'Twas hard to see the smok'ing meat. And smell the vapors floating round Of roasting joints and savoury steaks From steaming kitchens under ground. And sometimes little Christy cried. When, limping on with chilblain'd toes, Jle saw fine windows full of boots And children's shoes in shinintj: rows. GOLDEN SONGS. 153 Bat still he never would complain, And sometimes said, if John was sad, i' ^Y(i got, oij bravely yesterday ; Wliy should you take to moping, lad? "But, John, I think if you and I AVere rich, as these great people are, We'd just look out for orphan boys And give them nice warm clothes to wear.'^ "Just so,'^ said John, ^^ and w^e would give Poor little sweepers in the street A famous lot of bright pennies, To buy them something good to eat. "They'd never miss the little things That would make kings of me and you; I wish that we were rich men, Chris, We'd show 'em what rich men should do." 154: GOLDEN SONGS. PART THIRD. One night, between the dark and light, As tl>ey were going down a lane, And Christopher, with bleeding feet, Was slowly hobbling on with pain, John saw some shoes outside a door: ^' They're sure to keep poor Cliristy warm !" And quick as thought he snatched them up And tucked them underneath his arm. Then pale as ashes grew his face, And sudden fears rushed on his mind ; He hurried on with quicker pace, Lest some one should be close behind. "Do stop a bit,'' his brother cried ; "Don't be in such a hurry, John." John darted round a frightened look. And from a walk began a run. He thought he heard the cry of " Thief,'' And swifter down the street he fled; And black as night a wicked sprite With rapid feet behind him sped. GOLDEX SONGS. 155 The cry of "Thief!'' was in his enrs Through all the bustle and the din ; And when he reat-hed the lodging-house. The wicked spirit followed in. He sat down pale and out of breath, And locked the door into the street, And trembled when he only heard The sound of little Christy's feet. ^' There, Christy, boy — there's shoes for you, And now you'll cut away like fun ; Come, let us see how well they fit — Just give a tug, and they'll be on.'' Then Christopher did laugh outright, ^^ Hurra! hurra! — now^ I am shod; But, John, wd:iere did you get the shoes ?'^ John put him off, and gave a nod. The little boy was tired out. And quickly to his bed he crept, And knew not that a wicked sprite Scowled on his brother as he slept. 156 GOLDEN SONGS. John could not rest; the faintest noise Made all the flesh upon him creep; He turned, and turned, and turned again, But could not get a wink of sleep. He strained his ears to catch the sound Of footsteps in the silent night, And when they came close by the door, His hair almost rose up with fright. At last his fear became so great That in a cold, damp sweat he lay, And then the thouglit came in his mind That he had better try and pray. ^^ They tell us at the Sunday-school, That we must beg to be forgiven : My mother used to say the same Before slie went away to heaven. '*I wish I'd let the shoes alone; I wonder what IM better do? If I should take them back again. Poor Christy would not have a shoe. GOLDEX soxas. 157 ^'Though I don't think he'd care for that, For he's a better boy than I, n And he would sooner starve to death Than steal a thing or tell a lie. " Are you asleep, Chris ? Can't you wake ? I want to tell you something bad ; I've counted all the hours to-night ; I say, Chris, can't you wake up, lad ?" Just then the child screamed in his sleep, And started upright in his bed:- " Are you there, John ? Who's in the room ? Oh, John ! I d];^amt that you were dead. " I'm glad enough that I woke up, I'm glad you're all alive and well ; I'd such an ugly dream — I saw The devil taking you to hell." ^- And so he will, if I don't mind; As far as that, your dream is right; And as to going off to hell, I think I've been in hell all night."' 158 GOLDEN SONGS. " What have you done ?" " Why, stole some shoes — That very pair I gave to you ; But I can't rest about it, Chris ; I want to know what we shall do. " Why, take them back, of course," said Chris, ^' And put them where they were before ; Let's go at once." *^ No, stop/' said Johu, ^^The clock has only just struck four. ^^ There's no one stirring in the street, Th& shops will not be opened yet, And we sliould have to wait about For hours in the cofd and wet. " And now, that I've made up my mind, I don't feel half so much afraid." Then took to flight that evil sprite. And John lay down his weary head. At six o'clock the boys went out ; The snow was falling in the street; And through the bitter morning air They ran along with naked feet. GOLDEN SONGS. 159 They watched the busy town wake up, Undoing shutter, bolt and bar; But full two hours they walked about Before that door was set ajar. John quickly slipped the shoes inside, And then as quickly walked away, And with a lighter heart he went To face the labors of the day. Fast fell the feathery, floating snow. In w^hirling currents driven round, Or fluttered down in silent showers Of fleecy flakes upon the ground. if With broom in hand and shiverino; limbs The little sweepers bravely stood. And faced the cutting north-east wind, That seemed to chill their very blood. A lady, in a house close by, Who often watched the little boys. Heard many times that stormy day A deep cough mingling with the noise. 160 GOLDEX .SONGS. She rose up from lier blazing fire, And from the window looked about, And hard at work amongst the snow- She spied the ragged sweepers out. ^^Do, Geraldine, look here/' she said ; ^ " ITow thin that youngest boy has grown ! Poor little wretch ! how cold he looks, He's little more than skin and bone." ^'Poor little boy.!'' said Geraldine; '' I never saw a paler face ; I think they must be honest boys, They keep so constant to their place. '^^^ There's Frank's and Freddy's worn-out shoes, I think would fit them very well." '^ IVn-haps they would; I'll have them brought, Jly dear, if you will ring the bell. ^' And there's your brothers' old great coats, They'll never ])ut them on again ; But they wouKl keep these ehihii'en warm In many a storm of wind and rain." MotlicrV Last Woi.ls Golden Songs. Pajic IC.l. GOLDEN SONGS. 161 " And give them something nice to eat ; I don't mean dry old crusts of bread, Bat good mince-pies/' said Geraldine; "You know we have a plenty made.'' '^ Well do so, if you like, my dear.'' " Oh, thank you ; they shall have some pies." Poor John and little Christopher, They hardly could believe their eyes. They took the clothes and nice mince-pies, They bowed and thanked, and bowed again. Then scampered down the splashy streets. And reached their own dull, dirty lane. And there they fitted on their coats. And turned the pockets inside out, Stuck up the collars round their ears. Put on the shoes and marched about. They rubbed their hands and laughed amain, And twisted one another round, 14 * 162 GOLDEN SOXGS. And then John turned a somerset, And cleared the bedstead with a bound. ^^But now for these fine Christmas pies/^ He said, and smaclved his lips with glee, ^' They're just the things you wanted, Chris — There's two for you and two for me. '' We never had such luck before, We never dreamt of such a thins;/^ ''I think 'twas mother's angel, John, Who had that order from the King.'^ '^ You don't mean that in earnest, Chris?" ^•Why not?" said Chris, '^'m sure I do. I say, Jolin, if we died to-night. Should we both go to heaven, too?'^ ^MVell, Christoplier, last night I thought I should be sure to go to hell ; What sort of place that's like to be I've now a notion I could tell. GOLDEN SONGS. 163 " I'm pretty sure if I had died Last night, without my sins forgiven* I'd not a single chance to go To be with mother up in heaven. ^^ I wish I'd never touched the shoes ; . To steal is such a shameful sin, And though they're taken back again, I don't feel yet all right within. '' It was so bad to go and steal ; Four months to-day you know she died; And thougli we've fared quite hard enough, Our wants have mostly been supplied. " Some boys, we know, have had no bed — A deal worse off than you or I, For we have always had some bread, And just a place where we could lie. ^^ And now we've got some clothes to wear, And days will soon be getting long, And then, old boy, we'll shortly see You picking up and getting strong.'^ 164 GOLDEN SONGS. ^ I don't know^ John — I fancy not ; I sometimes think I'm going to die ; I dream so much about the place Where mother went — I don't know w^hy, ^^ Except, maybe, I'm going too. I saw one night, John, in a doze, That angel that my mother saw, With snowy wings and shining clothes. ^' He looked at me, and then he smiled, And said, ^ Your time will soon be come; Be patient, little Christopher — You're going to a better home.' '' You know last Sunday at the school The lady told us how to pray. And said, ^ that Jesus Christ had come To die and take our sins away.' '^ And so I begged he'd take all mine; And, Johnny, I believe he wjll ; And now I should not mind to die, If we could be together still." GOLDEN SONGS. 165 '^ Oh, Christy, boy, you must not die ; What should I do without you here? Oh, do get well — you must get weiy^ And John brushed off a starting tear. The winter passed, and spring-time came, And summer days grew warm and long, But little Christy weaker grew. And soon could hardly creep along. And then he stopped all day at home, And soon he hardly left his bed ; And John was forced to leave him there To earn for both their daily bread. Sometimes the lady at the house Gave John some little jobs to do, And when she found he did them well, She sent him on her errands too. And now when Christopher was ill. And John was leaving for the night. She gave him little dainty things To please his brother's appetite. 166 GOLDEN SONGS. The woman at the baker's shop Had always been a faithful friend, And often came to see the child, And stayed a while to wash and mend. The lady at the Sunday-school Found out the little orphans' home, And she would come and read to Chris, And he was glad to see her come. She talked about the heavenly King, And she would kneel and softly pray ; And thus he lingered on a whilo. Still getting weaker day by day. 'Twas on a sultry summer's night. When heavy lay the stifling air. As John was dropping off to sleep, He heard a softly-whispered prayer. He knew 'twas Chris, and did not stir, And then he heard a gentle sigh; It was the dear boy's happy soul Escaping to its home on high. GOLDEN SONGS, 167 He left behind his wasted form ; He rose above the toiling folk, Above tlie cross upon St. PauTs, Above the fog, above the smoke. And higlier^ higher, up he went, Until he reached the golden gate, Where night and day, in shining bands, The holy angels watch and wait. And he went in and saw the King, The Saviour who for him had died, And found once more his mother dear ; And little Chris was satisfied. And there they both together wait Till John shall reach that happy home, And often from the golden gate They watch in hopes to see him come. But John had many years to live, For he had useful work to do ; And he grew up an honest man, A sober man, and Christian too. 168 GOLDEN SONGS. His friend, the lady at the house, When little Chris was dead and gone, Bound John apprentice to a trade, And so he did not feel alone. And that bright minister of love, Appointed by the Saviour King To guard those orphan boys on earth, And then to heavenly glory bring, Still walked with John his journey through. And though unseen was ever nigh; Nor left him till his work was done, And then went up with him on high. And there, in everlasting joy. The mother and the brothers meet. To ])art no more, and weep no more, Nor dwell in that dark, dirty street; To toil no more with bleeding feet, Nor hungering long for something nice; For they are clothed as angels are, And eat the fruits of Paradise. GOLDEX SOXGS. 169 Jfo more the cold shall freeze their limbs, Nor darkness chill their dreary night; It is eternal summer there, And all the blessed rest in light ; And there, with thousand thousand souls. All saved from sorrow, fear and shame, They join to sing the happy song Of praise to God and to the Lamb, Dear boys, who read the simple tale Of these poor sweepers in the street, The gracious God who cared for them Will also guide your willing feet. WHO SHALL STAND IN THE HOLY PLACE? Oh who before the righteous God Shall uncondemned appear ? The man whose soul abides in truth, In deed and thought sincere ; The man whose heart from guile is pure, Whose hands from bribes are free ; 15 170 GOLDEN SONGS. Who honest poverty prefers To gainful perjury; f •The man who to his plighted word Has ever firmly stood ; Who, though he promise to his hurt, Still makes his promise good; Who throws the chambers of his soul Wide open to the light, And strives each day and hour to live As in his Maker's si2:ht. EVERY DAY SONGS AND BALLADS. EVERY-DAY SOI^GS AXD BALLADS. THE LITTLE DOVES. High on the top of an old pine tree Broods a mother dove, with her young ones three ; Warm over them is her soft downy breast, And they sing so sweetly in their nest : Coo ! say the little ones — Coo ! says she, All in their nest in the old pine tree. Soundly they sleep through the moonshiny night. Each young one covered and tucked in tight ; Morn wakes them up with the first blush of light. And they sing to each other with all their might : 15 * 173 174 GOLDEN SONGS. Coo ! say the little ones — Coo ! says she, All in their nest in the old pine tree. "When in their nest they are left all alone, Awhile their mother far for their dinner has flown. Quiet and gentle they all remain. Till their mother they see come home again ; Then Coo ! say the little ones — Coo ! says she, All in their nest in the old pine tree. When they are fed by their tender mother, One never will push nor crowd another ; Each opens wide his own little bill. And he patiently waits and gets his fill; Then Coo ! say the little ones — Coo ! says she, All in their nest in the old pine tree. Wisely the mother begins by and by To make her young ones learn to fly, Just for a little way over the brink. Then back to the nest as quick as a wink; And Coo ! say the little ones — Coo ! says she, All in their nest in the old pine tree. GOLDEN SOXGS. 175 Fast grow the young ones, day and nigbt, Till their wings are plumed for a longer flight; Till unto them at the last draws nigh The time when they all must say good-bye ; Then Coo ! say the little ones — Coo ! says she, And away they fly from the old pine tree. J. R. MY LITTLE LAMMIE. A NURSERY SONG. As I walked over the hills one day, I listened and heard a mother-sheep say : " In all the green world, there is nothing so sweet As my little lammie, with his nimble feet; With his eye so bright and his wool so white, Oh he is my darling, my heart's delight. The robin, he that sings in the tree, Dearly may dote on his darlings four; But I love my one little lambkin more." And the mother-sheep and her little one Side by side lay down in the sun, 176 GOLDEN SONGS. And tliey went to sleep on the hill-slcle warm ; While my little laminie lies here on my arm. I went into the kitchen, and what did I see But the old gray cat and her kittens three ? I heard her whispering soft. Said she, '' My kittens, with tails all so cunningly curled, Are the prettiest things that can be in the world ; The bird on the tree, and the old ewe she. May love their babies exceedingly, But I love my kittens there, under the rock- ing-chair ; I love my kittens with all my might; I love them at morning and noon and night; Which is the prettiest I cannot tell — Which of the three, for the life of me, I love them all so well ; Now I'll take up my kitties, the kitties I love. And we'll lie down together beneath the warm stove.'' Let the kitties sleep under the stove so warm, While my little darling lies here on my arm. GOLDEN SOXGS. 177 I went to the yard, and I saw the old hen Go clucking about with her children ten. She clucked and she scratched and she bristled away, And what do you think I heard her say ? I heard her say, " The sun never did shine On anything like to these chickens of mine; You may hunt the full moon and the stars, if you please, But you never will find ten such chickens as these ; The cat loves her kittens, the ewe loves her lamb. But they do not know what a proud mother I am ; For lambs, nor for kittens, I won't part with these. Though the sheep and the cat should go down on their knees ; No, no ! not though the kittens should crow, Or the laramie on two yellow legs could go ; My dear downy darlings, my sweet little things ; Come nestle now cozily under my wings ;'' 178 GOLDEN SONGS. So the hen said, and the chickens all sped As fast as they could to their nice feather bed ; And there let them sleep in their feathers so warm, While my little chick lies here on my arm. Littell's Living Age. MARY DOW. Come in, little stranger, I said, As she tapped at my half-open door. While the blanket pinned over her head Just reached to the basket she bore. A look full of innocence fell From her modest and pretty blue eye, As she said, " I have matches to sell. And hope you are willing to buy ! '^ A penny a bunch is the price ; I think you will not find it too much; They're tied up so even and nice. And ready to light with a touch." GOLDEN SONGS. 179 I asked, ^^ What's your name, little girl?'^ "'Tis Mary/' she said— ^^ Mary Dow V' And carelessly tossed off a curl That played o'er her delicate brow. *^ My father was lost in the deep, The ship never got to the shore; And mother is sad, and will weep When she hears the wind blow, and sea roar ! " She sits there at home without food, Beside our poor sick Willie's bed ; She paid all her money for wood. And so I sell matches for bread. "Every time that my dear mother tries Some things she'll get pay for to make, And lays down the baby, it cries ; And that makes my sick brother wake. " I go to the school, where I'm taught Of the Saviour so wise and so good. Who knows every action and thought, And ogives even ravens their food. 180 GOLDEN SOXGS. *^ And He, I urn sure, who doth take Such fatherly care of a bird, Will never forget or forsake His children who trust in his word. '^ And now, if I only can sell The matches I brought out to-day, I think I shall do very wxll, And mamma will rejoice at the pay.'^ Fly home, little bird, then I thought — Fly home full of joy to your nest ; For I took all the matches she brought, And Mary may tell you the rest. THE SQUIRREL A SQUiRliEL sat on the topmost limb Of a fine old hickory, graceful and slim; For his breakfast he'd run over heather and heath, And now he sat co;^ily picking his teeth. And there as he sat, gently fanned by the breeze That rustled the leaves of the old forest trees, GOLDEX S0XG8. 181 A poor wounded dove came and perched by his side, And to his '^ good-morning'' thus trembling replied : ^* I ^va^n you, Sir Squirrel, to run for your life, Lest sorrow you bring on your children and wife; A hunter is coming vrith dog and with gun ; As a friend, I advise you, Sir Squirrel, to run. '^Take warning, I pray, from my own bleeding breast, And hasten away to your leaf-guarded nest !'' ^' Pooh, pooh !'^ said the squirrel, '^ I scorn thus to run ; I fear not the hunter, his doo; nor his o:un V^ ^' Good-bye, then. Sir Squirrel, before it's too late ; I go, and I leave you alone to your fate ;" And away sped the dove over heather and heath, But the squirrel sat cozily picking his teeth. 16 182 GOLDEN SONGS. When on came the hunter with dog and with gun, And then the poor squirrel Avould gladly have run ; But a victim he fell to his folly and pride, And for scorning good counsel the poor squir- rel died ! THE BOY WHO NEVER TELLS A LIE. Once there was a little boy, AVith curly hair and pleasant eye — A boy who always told the truth, And never, never told a lie I And when he trotted off to school, The children all about would cry, '^ There goes the curly-headed boy, AVho never, never tells a lie.'^ And everybody trusted him Because he always told the truth ; And more and more, as he grew up. They loved the true and honest youth GOLDEN SOXGS. 183 God is a God of truth, and when His little honest children die, He takes them up to live with him, Where none can go who love " to lie !'^ THE DRUMMER-BOY'S BURIAL All day long the storm of battle Through the startled valley swept; All night long the stars in heaven, O'er the slain sad vigils kept ; Oh the ghastly, upturned faces Gleaming whitely through the night ! Oh the heaps of mangled corses In that dim, sepulchral light ! One by one the pale stars faded, And at length the morning broke, But not one of all the sleepers On that field of death awoke ; Slowly passed the golden hours Of the long, bright summer day; And upon that field of carnage Still the dead unburied lay, — 184 GOLDEN SONGS. Lay there stark and cold, but pleading With a dumb, unceasing prayer For a little dust to hide them FroQi the staring sun and air; But the foemen held possession Of that hard-won battle-plain, In unholy wrath denying Even burial to our slain. Once again the night closed o'er them. — Night so holy and so calm, That the moonbeams hushed the spirit Like the sound of prayer or psalm ; On a couch of trampled grasses, Just apart from all the rest, Lay a fair young boy, with small hands Meekly folded on his breast. Death had touched him very gently, And he lay as if asleep ; Even his mother scarce had shuddered At that slumber calm and deej) ; For a smile of wondrous sweetness Lent a radiance to the liice, GOLDEX SOXGS. 185 And the hand of cunning sculptor Could have added naught of grace To the marble limbs so perfect In their passionless repose, Robbed of all save matchless pureness By the hard, unpitying foes ; And the broken drum beside him All his life's short story told — How he did his duty bravely Till the death-tide o'er him rolled. Midnight came with ebon garments And a diadem of stars, While right upward in the zenith Hung the fiery planet Mars ; Hark ! a sound of stealthy footsteps And of voices whispering low ; Was it nothing but the young leaves, Or the brooklet's murmuring flow ? Clinging closely to each other. Striving never to look round. As they passed with silent shudder The pale corses on the ground, 16* 186 GOLDEN SONGS. Came two little maidens, sisters, With a light and hasty tread. And a look upon their faces Half of sorrow, half of dread. But they did not pause nor falter Till with throbbing hearts they stood Where the drummer-boy w^as lying In that partial solitude; They had brought some simple garments From their wardrobes' scanty store; And tw^o heavy iron shovels In their slender hands they bore. Then they quickly knelt beside him, Crushing back the pitying tears, For they had no time for weeping Nor for any girlish fears. And they robed the icy body in its hour of sorest need, And they felt that death was holy, and it sanctified the deed. But they smiled and kissed each other When their new, strange task was o'er; GOLDEX SONGS. 187 And the form that lay before them Its unwonted garments wore ; Then with slow and weary labor A small grave they hollowed out, And they lined it w^ith the withered Grass and leaves that lay about ; But the day was slowly breaking Ere their holy work was done, And in crimson pomp the morning Heralded again the sun ; Then those tender little maidens — They were children of our foes — Laid the body of our drummer- Boy to undisturbed repose. BOB-O'-LINK. Merrily swinging on brier and w^eed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain-side or mead, Robert of Lincoln is tellincr his name : Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link — spink, spank, spink ! Snug and safe is that nest of ours. Hidden among the summer flowers — chee, chee, chee ! 188 GOLDEN SOXGS. llobert of Lincoln is gayly drest, Wearing a bright black wedding-coat ; AVliite are his shouklers and white his crest ; Hear him call in his merry note — Bob-o'-link,bob-'o-link — spink,spank, spinkl Look what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there w^as never a bird so line — chee, chee, chee ! Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Passing at home a patient life, Broods in the grass while her husband sings, Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link — spink, spank, spink! Brood, kind creature, you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here — chee, chee, chee ! Modest and shy as a nun is she. One weak chirp is lier only note ; Braggart, and prince of braggarts, is he, Pourinir boasts from his little throat — '^ Never was I afi'aid of man ; Catch me cowardly knaves, if you can!'' GOLDEN SONGS. 189 Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight ; There, as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might — '' Nice good wife, that never goes out, Keej)ing house while I frolic about !'' Soon as the little ones chip the shell Six wide mouths are open for food ; Eubert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seeds for the hungry brood — ^* This new life is likely to be Hard for a young fellow like me/^ Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work and silent with care; Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air — '' Xobody knows but my mate and I Where our nest and nestlings lie/^ Summer wanes — the children are grown; Fun and frolic no more he knows; 190 GOLDEN SONGS. Robert of Lincoln's a Immdrum crone; Off he flies and we sinii; as he 2:oes — ^' When you can pipe that merry ohl strain, Robert of Lineohi, come back again V^ W. C. Bryant, POOR MAMMA. Dear mother, get my bonnet, do! I want to go and phiy; And, mother, hurry, tie my shoe. Or puss will run away; And })lease, mamma, untie this string. It's in a hateful knot ; And tell me wliere I put my sling — I really have forgot. Mamma, said Jane, my dress is loose, I wish you'd hook it up ; Oh dear ! I want a drink so bad, Jiut I can't reach the cup. Mamma, cries Jolin, I want a string To make my kite fly high. And lots of paper for the tail, To make it reach the sky ! GOLDEN SONGS. 191 I've cut my finger, whimpers Pet, Do tie a rag upon it. And, mamma, please sew this string Once more upon my bonnet; And please comb out my tangled hair, And wash my face all clean, For the children all are going to walk, And I^m not fit to be seen ! Mamma, where is my jumping-rope? Where did I put my hat? I wish you'd help me build this house ! Mamma, Bess plagues my cat! Mamma, cries Dick, please tie my hoop, And draw a house for me ; And all the pictures in that book, Mamma, please show to me ! Now, every hour and every day Don't call mamma for aid ; But help yourself, and you'll help her. My darling little maid ; You, sir ! don't be a thoughtless boy, But a thoughtful little man ; 192 GOLDEX SONGS. Play without help ; put up each toy — Help mamma all you can ! GOOD-MORNING. ^^Oh I am so happy !" a little girl said, As she sprang like a lark from her low trun- dle bed ; ^^ ^ Tis morning, bright morning, good-morn- ing, papa ! Just give me a kiss for good-morning, mamma : Only just look at my pretty canary, Chirping his sweet good-morning to Mary ! The sun is peeping straight Into my eyes — Good-morning to you, Mr. Sun, for you rise Early to wake up my birdie and me, And make us as happy as happy can be.'' " Happy you may be, my dear little girl," And her mother stroked softly a clustering curl — '^ Happy you may l>e, but think of the One Wlio waked this morning both you and the sun r GOLDEN SONGS. 193 The little girl turned her bright eyes with a nod : ^^ Mamma, may I say good-morning to God?'^ ^^ Yes, little darling one, surely you may ; Kneel as you kneel every morning to pray.'^ Mary knelt solemnly down, with her eyes Looking up earnestly into the skies. Two little hands that were folded together Softly she laid on the lap of her mother. " Good-morning, dear Father in heaven/^ she said ; " I thank you for watching my snug little bed, And for taking good care of me all the dark night, And for waking me up with the beautiful light. Oh keep me from naughtiness all the long day, Dear Saviour, who taught little children to pray/^ 17 194 GOLDEN SONGS. THE SPIDER AND THE FLY. *^ Will you walk into my parlor?'^ said the spider to the fly ; " ^Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy; The way into my parlor is up a winding stair, And I have many pretty things to show you when you're there/' *^ Oh, no, no,'' said the little fly ; " to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stairs can ne'er come down again." ^' I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high ; Will you rest upon my little bed ?" said the spider to the fly, *^ There are pretty curtains drawn around, the sheets are fine" and thin. And if you like to rest a while, I'll snugly tuck you in." GOLDEX SOXGS. 195 ^^Oh, no, no/' said the little fly, ''for Vve often heard it said, They never, never wake again who sleep upon vour bed.' Said the cunning spider to the fly : '^ Dear friend, what can I do To prove the warm affection Vxe always felt for you ? I have within my pantry good store of all that's nice ; I'm sure you're very welcome — will you please to take a slice ?" '' Oh, no, no," said the little fly ; '' kind sir, that cannot be ; I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see." ^^ Sweet creature," said the spider, ^^ you're witty and you're wise ; How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes ! 196 OOLDEX SONGS. I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf; If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself/' ^^ I thank you, gentle sir/' she said, ^^ for what you please to say, And, bidding you good-morning now, I'll call another day/' The spider turned him r^und about and Avent into his den, For well he knew the silly fly would soon come back again : So he wove a subtle web in a little corner sly, And set his table ready to dine upon the fly. Then came he to his door again, and merrily did sing, " Come hither, hither, pretty fly, with the pearl-and-silver wing; Your robes are green and purple, there's a crest upon your liead ; Your eyes are like the diamond, while mine are dull as lead." GOLDEN SONGS. 197 Alas ! alas ! how very soon this silly little fly, Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by ! With buzzing wings she hung aloft, then near and nearer drew. Thinking only of her brilliant eyes and her green-and-purple hue; Thinking only of her crested head, poor foolish thing ! at last Up jumped the cunning spider and fiercely held her fast ; He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den, Within his little parlor, but she ne^er came out again. And now, dear little children who may this storv read, To idle, silly, flattering words I pray you ne'er give heed ; Unto all evil counselors close heart and ear and eye. And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly. Mary Howitt. 17 * 198 GOLDEN SONGS. THE SNOW-BIRD. The ground was all covered with snow one And two little sisters were busy at play, When a snow-bird was sitting close by, on a tree. And merrily singing his chick-a-dee-dee. He had not been singing that tune very long, Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song; *' Oh, sister, look out of the window I'' said she, '^ Here^s a dear little bird sinc^ino; chick-a- dee-dee. ^^ Poor fellow ! he walks in the snow and the sleet, And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet ; I pity him so, how cold he must be! And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-dee-dee. ^' If I were a barefooted snow-bird, I know I would not stay out in the cold and the snow ; GOLDEN SONGS, 199 I wonder what makes him so fall of his glee ? He's all the time singing that chick-a-clee-dee. "Oh, mother, do get him some stockings and shoes, And a nice little frock, and a hat if you choose ; I wish he'd come into the parlor and see How warm we would make him, poor chick- a-dee-dee !'' The bird had flown down for some pieces of bread, And heard every word little Emily said. " What a figure I'd make in that dress !'^ thought he, And he laughed as he warbled his chick-a- dee-dee. " I'm grateful," said he, " for the wish you express, But I have no occasion for such a fine dress ; I had rather remain with my little legs free, Than be hobbling along, singing chick-a- dee-dee. 200 GOLDEN SONGS. ^' There is one, my dear child, though I cannot tell who, Has clothed me already, and warm enough too ; Good-morning ! oh who are so happy as ^\eV^ And away he flew, singing his chick-a-dee-dee. Wordsworth. THE STOLEN NEST. To- WHIT, to-whit, to-whee ! w^ill you listen to me? Who stole four eggs I laid, and the nice nest I made? Not I ! said the cow, moo-oo — such a thing I never do; I gave you a whisp of hay, but didn't take your nest away, Not I ! said the cow, moo-oo — such a thing I'd never do ! To-whit, to-whit, to-whee! will you listen to me? AVho stole four eggs I laid, and the nice nest I made? GOLDEN SOXGS. 201 Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-liiik^ now what do you think — Who stole a nest away from the plum tree to- day? Not I ! said the dog, bow-wow — I wouldn't be so mean, I know; I gave hairs the nest to make, but the nest I did not take ; Not I ! said the dog, bow-wow — I wouldn't be so mean, I know ! Coo-coo, coo-coo, coo-coo! let me speak a word or two ; Who stole that pretty nest from little yellow- breast ? Not I, said the sheep ; oh no, I wouldn't treat a poor bird so? I gave wool the nest to line, but the nest is none of mine, Baa, baa ! said the sheep ; oh no, I wouldn't treat a birdie so. Caw, caw ! said the crow — I should like to know What thief took away a bird's nest to-day ? 202 GOLDEN SONGS. Cluck, cluck ! said the hen, don't ask me again ; AVhy I haven't a chick would do such a trick ; AVe all gave her a feather, and she wove them together : I would scorn to intrude upon her and her brood ; Cluck, cluck! said the hen — don't ask me again ! Chirr-a-whirr, chirr-a- whirr ! AVe will make a great stir; Let us find out his name, and all cry, "For shame !'' To-whit, to-whit, to-whee ! will you listen to me? AVho stole four eggs I laid, and the pretty nest I made? Bob-o'-link bob-o'-llnk ! now what do you think— AVlio stole a nest away from the plum tree to- day ? GOLDEN SONGS. 203 Coo-coo, coo-coo, coo-coo ! let me speak a word or two ; Who stole that pretty nest from little yellow- breast ? Caw, caw! cried the crow — I should like to know What thief took away a bird's nest to-day ? Chirr-a-whirr, chirr-a-whirr ! we will make a great stir; Let us find out his name, and all cry, " For shame !'' I would not rob a bird, said little Mary Green ; I think I never heard of anything so mean ! ^Tis very cruel too, said little Alice Neal ; I wonder if he knew how sad the bird would feel ? A little boy hung down his head, And went and hid behind the bed, For he stole that pretty nest From little yellow-breast ; And he felt so full of shame He did not like to tell his name. Little Songs for LiTtlb People. 204 GOLDEN SONGS. MY LITTLE SISTER. I HAVE a little sister; she's only two years old, But she is a little darling, and worth her weight in gold, She often runs to kiss me when I'm at work or play, Twining her arms around me in such a pretty May. And then she says so sweetly, in innocence and joy, ^^Tell me a story, sister, about a little boy.^' But sometimes when I'm knitting, she pulls my needles out. And then she skips and dances round with such a merry shout. It makes me laugh to see her, though I'm not very glad To have her take my needles out and make my work so bad ; But I know if I would have her be sorry for what she's done, I must be very gentle when I tell her it is GOLDEN SONGS. 205 MINUTES AND YEARS. Sixty seconds make a minute ! Sixty minutes make an hour ! Twenty-four hours make a day, Long enough for sleep and play. In every month the weeks are four, And twelve whole months will make a year ! And when you are four, or a little more, You must work as well as play, my dear. TUMBLE Tumble up, tumble down, never mind it, my sweet ! No, no I never beat the poor floor ; 'Twas your fault that you could not stand straight on your feet ; Beat yourself, if you beat any more. Hush, hush ! what a noise ! Will a noise make it well ? Will crying wash bruises away? 18 206 GOLDEN SONGS. Suppose it should bleed a little and swell? It will all be gone down in a day. That's right^ be a man and dry up your tears; Come, smile now and give me a kiss; If you live in the world but a very few years, You will have greater troubles tlian this. Jane Taylor. WHAT I HATE. I HATE to see a little girl who does not love to rise, Or have the water fresh and sweet cover her face and eyes ; I hate to see her clean smooth dress look w^rinkled, tumbled, tossed. Her toys all scattered liere and there, her thread and needle lost. I hate to see her at her play, when little girls arc met To frolic, laugh and run about, grow peevish, cry and fret ; GOLDEN SONGS. 207 I hate to hear her tell a lie, what is not hers to take, Mammals commands to disobey, or papa's rales to break. WHAT i LOVE. I love to see a little girl rise with the lark so bright, Bathe, comb and dress with pleasant face, then thank God for the lighi^ ; And when she comes to meet mamma, so fresh and neat and clean. To kiss her and her dear papa with gentle, modest mien. I like to see her kindly play when little girls are met, And let the others have their way, and never sulk or fret ; And never, never tell a lie, and nothing ever take That is not hers; and do all this for her dear Saviour's sake. 208 GOLDEN SONGS. BIRD'S NEST. A LITTLE bird built a warm nest in a tree, And laid some blue eggs in it — one, two, three; And then very glad and delighted was she. And after a while, but how long I can't tell. The little ones crei)t one by one from their shell. And the mother was pleased, for she loved them all well. She spread her soft wings o'er them all the day long. To warm them and guard them, her love was so strong ; And her mate sat beside her and sung her a song. One day the young birds were all crying for food ; So off flew their mother, away from her brood, And there (^ame some boys who were wicked and rude. GOLDEX SONGS. 209 They pulled the warm nest down, away from the tree ; The little ones cried, but they could not get free; So at last they all died away — one, two, three. When back to the nest the poor mother did Oh then she set up a most piteous cry ; And she mourned a long while, then lay down to die. SOXGS FOR THE LiTTLE OxES AT HOME. THE BATH. I LOVE the good splashing and plunging and dashing ; Hurrah ! the cold water for me ! I never will cry nor halloo; no, not I : Unless it^s for joy and for glee; Hurrah for a splash — come give me a dash; I don't care a fig for the cold ; It makes me so bright, so active and light, It's better than silver and gold. 18* 210 GOLDEN SONGS. PUSSY-CAT. Pussy-cat lives in the servants' hall, She can set up her back and purr ; The little mice live in a crack in the wall, But they hardly dare venture to stir ; For whenever they think of taking the air, Or filling their little maws, The pussy-cat says, Come out if you dare ; I will catch you all with my claws. Scrabble, scrabble, scrabble, went all the little mice. For they smelt the Cheshire cheese; The pussy-cat said, It smells very nice ; Now do come out if you please. Squeak, said the little mouse — squeak, squeak, squeak, Said all the little ones too ; We never creep out when cats are about, Because we're afraid of you. GOLDEN SOXGS, 211 So the cunning old cat lay down on a mat By the fire in the servants' hall ; "If the little mice peep, they'll think I^m asleep f So she rolled herself up in a ball. Squeak, said the little mouse, we'll creep out And eat some Cheshire cheese; That silly old cat is asleep on a mat, And we may sup at our ease. Nibble, nibble, nibble, went the little mice, And they licked their little paws ; Then the cunning old cat s^^rang up from the mat, And caught them all with her claws. Aunt Effie. THE GRAY SWAN. "Oh tell me, sailor, tell me true — Is my little lad, my Elihu, A sailing with your ship?" The sailor's eyes were dim with dew — "Your little lad, your Elihu?'' 212 GOLDEN SONGS. He said with trembling lip ; '' What little lad?— What ship? ^^ What little lad ? as if there could be Another such a one as he; What little lad, do you say? Why Elihu, that took to the sea The moment I put him off my knee; It was just the other day The ^ Gray Swau' sailed away/' ^' The other day !" — the sailor's eyes Stood open with a great surprise. " The other day !— the Swan !'' His heart began in his throat to rise; " Ay, ay, sir; here in the cupboard lies The jacket he had on!'' ^^ And so your lad is gone?" '^ Gone with the Swan ?" " And did she stand With her anchor clutching hold of the sand For a month, and never stir?" ^' Why to be sure; I've seen from the land, liike a lover kissing his lady's hand, The wild sea kissing her ! — A sight to remember, sir !" GOLDEN SONGS. 213 ^' But, my good mother, do you know All this was twenty years ago ? — I stood on the Gray Swan's d.eck, And to that lad I saw you throw Taking it ofF, as it might be so, The kerchief from your neck/^ ^' Ay, and he'll bring it back.'^ ^^ And did the little lawless lad That has made you sick and made you sad, Sail with the Gray Swan's crew f^ '^ Lawless ! — the man is going mad, The best boy ever mother had ; Be sure, he sailed with the crew^ — What would you have him do ?'^ ^^ And he has never written a line. Nor sent you word nor made you sign To say he was alive ?'^ '' Hold ! if ^twas wrong, the wrong is mine ; Besides, he may be in the brine ! And could he write from the grave? Tut, man ! what would you have?" 214 GOLDEN SONGS. '^ Gone twenty years — a long, long cruise — 'Twas wicked thus your love to abuse ! But if the lad still live And come back home, think you you can Forgive him T^ — ^^ Miserable man ! You're mad as the sea I you rave ! What have I to forgive !'' The sailor twitched his shirt so blue, And from within his bosom drew The kerchief — she was wild. "O God, my Father, is it true, My little lad! my Elihu ! My blessed boy ! my child ! My dead — my living child ?'^ Alice Carey. WE ARE SEVEN! I MET a little cottage girl ; She was eight years old, she said ; Her Iiair was thick with many a curl Tliat clustered around her head, GOLDEN SOXGS. 215 " Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be ?'' ^^ How many ? Seven in all/' she said, And wondering looked at me. ^' And where are they ? I pray you tell I" She answered, ^^ Sev.en are we. And two of us in Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea. " Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother. And in the churchyard cottage I Dwell near them with my mother.'^ " You say that two at Conway dwell, •And two are gone to sea. Yet you are seven ! I pray you tell Sweet maid, how this may be ?'' Then did the little maid reply, " Seven boys and girls are we ; Two of us in the churchyard lie Beneath the churchyard tree !'' 216 GOLDEN SONGS. ^^ You run about, my little maid, Your limbs, they are alive ; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five V^ ^^ Their graves are green; they may be seen," Tlie little maid replied, ^^ Twelve steps or more from mother's door. And they are side by side. ^^ My stockings there, T often knit. My kerchief there I hem, And there upon the ground I sit — I sit and sing to them. " And often after sunset, sir. When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer And eat my supper there. ^' The first that died was little Jane ; In bed she moaning lay. Till God released her from her pain, And then she went away. "^^Mi, ' Master, we are Seven ! Golden Songs. Page 21 'i GOLDEN SOXGS. 217 ^^So in the churchyard she was laid, And when the grass was dry, Together around her grave we played, My brother John and I. '' And wdien the ground was white with snow^, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side/^ ^^ How many are you then," said I, '^ If those two are in heaven ?" The little maiden did reply, " Oh, master, v/e are seven V^ ^^ But they are dead — those two are dead ; Their spirits are in heaven !" ^Twas throwing words away, for still The little maid would have her will, And said, *^ Nay, we are seven !" Wm. Wordsworth. 19 218 GOLDEX SOXGS. SEVEN TIMES ONE. There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, There's no rain left in Iieaven ; I've said my *^ seven times'' over and over — Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old I can write a letter; My birth-day lessons are done ; The lambs play always, they know no better; They are only one times one. moon^ in the night I've seen you sailing, And shining so round and low; You were bright, ah bright, but your light is failing; You are nothing now but a bow. You moon ! have you done something wrong in heaven, That (Jod has hidden your fiice?» 1 hope if you have, you will be forgiven, And shine again in your place. GOLDEN SONGS. 219 O velvet bee, you^^e a dusty fellow ; You've powdered your legs with gold ; O brave marshmary buds, rich and yellow, Give me your money to hokl. O columbine, open your folded wrapper, Where two twin turtle-doves dwell ; cuckoo-pint, toll me the purple-clapper That hangs in your clear green bell. And show me your nest w^ith the young ones in it; I will not steal them away ; 1 am old, you may trust me, linnet I linnet ! — I am seven times one to-day. Jean Ingelow. ETERNITY. How long sometimes a day appears ! And weeks, how long are they ! Months move as slow as if the years Would never pass away. 220 GOLDEN SONGS. Days, months and years must have an end ; Eternity has none ; ^Twill always have as long to spend As when it first begun. Great God ! although we cannot tell How such a thing may be, AVe humbly i)ray that we may dwell That long, long time with thee. Jane Taylor. LITTLE BELL Piped the blackbird on the beechw'Ood spray, *^ Little maid, slow w^andering this way, What's your name?" said he, " What's your name ? oh stop and straight unfold, Pretty maid w^ith showery curls of gold !" ^a.ittle Bell," said Jhe. Little I>(»11 sat down beneath the rocks, Tossed aside her gloamy gohlen locks, GOLDEN SONGS. 221 " Bonny bird/^ said she, " Sing me your best song before I go.'^ *^ Here's the very finest song I know, Little Bell/' said he. And the blackbird piped — you never heard Half so gay a song from any bird 'Neath the morning skies ; In the little childish heart below, All its sweetness seemed to grow and grow, And shine forth in happy overflow From the bright blue eyes. Down the dell she tripped, and through the glade ; Peeped the squirrel from the hazel-shade, And from out the tree Swung and leaped and frolicked void of fear, While the blackbird piped so all could hear : " Little Bel V piped he. Little Bell sat down amid the fern : ^' Squirrel, squirrel, to your task return ; 19* 222 GOLDEN SONGS. '^'•' Bring rae nuts/' quoth she, Up, away, the frisky squirrel hies — Golden woodlights glancing in his eyes; And adown the tree, Great ripe nuts, kissed brown by July sun, In the little lap drop one by one, Hark, how blackbird pipes to see the fun : *' Happy Bell,'' pipes he. liittle Bell looked up and down the glade, *^ Squirrel, squirrel, from the nut tree shade, Bonny blackbird, if you're not afraid, Come and share with me." Down came squirrel, eager for his share, Down came bonny blackbird : I declare Little Bell gave each his honest share ; Ah, the merry three I By her snow-white cot, at close of day. Knelt sweet Bell, with folded palms, to pray; Very calm and clear Rose the praying voice to where, unseen In blue heaven, an angel shape serene Paused a while to hear. GOLDEX SONGS. 223 *^ What good child is this/^ the angel said, " That with happy heart, beside her bed, Prays so lovingly V^ Low and soft, oh very low and soft, Crooned the blackbird in the orchard croft: " Bell, dear Bell V' crooned he. ^' Whom God\s creatures love/^ the ano^el fair Murmured, '^ God doth bless with angels^ care, Child, thy bed shall be Folded safe from harm — love deep and kind Shall watch around and leave good gifts be- hind, Little Bell, for thee.'' T. Westwood. CAT AND KITTEN. KiTTEX, kitten ! two months old, woolly snow- ball lying snug, Curled up in the warmest fold of the warm hearth-rug. Turn your drowsy head this way, What is life, O kitten, say? 224 GOLDEN SONGS. liife ! said the kitten, ^vinklng lier eyes, And twitoliing her tail in a droll surprise ; Life ! Oh it's racing over the floor, Out at the window and in at the door, Now on the chair-back, now on the table^ ^Mid balls of cotton and skeins of silk. And crumbs of sugar, and jugs of milk, All so easy and comfortable. It's patting a little dog's ears, and leaping Round him and over him while he's sleeping; AVaking him up in a sore affright. Then off and away like a flash of light, Scouring and scampering out of sight. Life ! Oh it's rolling over and over On the summer turf and budding clover; Chasing the shadows as fast as they run Down the green paths in the summer sun ; Prancing and gamboling brave and bold. Climbing the tree-stems, scratching the mould ; That's life! said the kitten, two months old! Kitten, kitten ! come sit on my knee, And listen, kitty, listen to me I One by one — oh one by one — The shy, swift shadows sweep over the sun, GOLDEN SONGS. 225 Daylight dieth, and kittenhood's done ! And, kitten oh the rain and the wind ! For cathood cometh, with careful mind, And grave cat-duties follow behind ; Hark! there's a sound you cannot hear: V\\ whisper its meaning in your ear — Ilice! The kitten stared with her great green eyes, And twitched her tail in a queer surprise—- Mice ! No more tit-bits dainty and nice, Xo more mischief, and no more play. But watching by night and sleeping by day ! Prowling wherever the foe doth lurk ; Very short commons and very sharp work. And, kitten, oh the hail and thunder; That's a blackish cloud, but a blacker is under. Hark ! but you^ll fall from my knee I fear, When I whisper that awful word in your ear — R-r-r-r-ats ! ! The kitten's heart beat with great pit-a-pats; But her whiskers quivered, and from their sheath t> Flashed out the sharp white, pearly teeth! 226 GOLDEN SOXGS. The scorn of tlogs, but the terror of cats, The cruelest foes, and the fiercest fighters, The sauciest thiev'cs, and the sharpest biters — R-r-r-r-ats ! ! But, kitten, I see you've a stoutish heart, So courage and phiy an honest part ; Use well your paws, and stretchout your claws, And sharpen your teeth, and strengthen your jaws ; Then woe to the tribe of pickers and stealers, Kibblers, and gnawers, and evil-dealers ; But now that you know that life's not precisely The thing your fancy ])ictured so nicely. Oft* and away, race over the floor, Out at the window, and in at the door; KoU on the turf, and bask in the sun, Ere ni^rht-tinie cometh and kittenhood's done! THE LITTLE FISH. *^Di:aii mother!" said a little llsh, '^ ])ray is not that a fly ? I'm very hungry and I ('i'ish you'd let me go and try !" GOLDEN" SOXGS. 227 "Sweet innocent!'' the mother cried, and started from her nook — '* That horrid fly is put to hide the sharpness of the hook." Nov/, as I've heard, this little trout wa^ young and foolisli too, And so he thought he'd venture out to see if it were true ; And round about the hook he played, with many a longing look. And, "Dear me!" to himself he said, "I'm sure that's not a hook ; I can but give one little pluck ; let's see, and. sol will!" So on he went, and lo ! it stuck quite through his little gill ; And as he faint and fainter grew, with hol- low voice he cried, "Dear mother, had I minded you, I need not now^ have died ! 228 GOLDEN SONGS. BETH GELERT. The spearman heard the bugle sound, And cheerily smiled the niorn, And many a dog and many a hound Obeyed Llewellyn's horn ; Yet still he blew a louder blast, And gave a lustier cheer: ^^ Come, Gelert, come ! thou'rt never last Llewellyn's horn to hear/^ But where does faithful Gelert roam, The pride of all his race — So true, so brave, a lamb at home, A lion in the chase ? That day Llewellyn little loved The chase of hart or hare, And scant and small the booty 2)roved, For Gelert was not there. Unpleased, Llewellyn homeward hied, When near his portal seat. His truant Gelert he espied. Bounding his lord to meet; GOLDEN SONGS. 229 Bat when he reached the castle door, Aghast the chieftahi stood ; The hound was all o'er-smeared with gore ; His lips, his fangs ran blood. Onward in haste Llewellyn past, And on went Gelert too, And still where'er his eyes he cast, Fresh blood-drops shocked his view; He called his child; no voice re23lied; He searched in terror wild — Blood, blood he found on every side. But nowhere found his child. ^* Thou hound ! my child's by thee devoured T' The frantic father cried. And to the hilt his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert^s side ; His suppliant looks as prone he fell No pity could impart. Yet still his Gelert's dying yell Passed heavy o'er his heart. Aroused by. Gelert's dying yell, Some slumberer wakened nigh ; 20 230 GOLDEN SOXGS. What joy the parent's heart could tell To hear his infant cry ? No wound had he, nor harm nor dread, But the same couch beneath Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and dead, Tremendous still in death. And what was then Llewellyn's pain! For now the truth was clear; The gallant hound tlie wolf had slain To save Llewellyn's heir. Vain, vain v/as all Llewellyn's woe: ^' Best of thy kind, adieu ! The frantic blow that laid thee low This heart shall ever rue." And now a gallant tomb they raise, With costly sculpture decked, And marbles storied to his praise Brave Gelert's bones protect. There never yet could spearman pass Or forester unmoved ; And there the tear besprinkled grass Llewellyn's sorrow proved. Old Ballad. GOLDEX SONGS. 231 THE MILK-WHITE DOVE. Will you have a story, darling ? I know one, very old ; For when I was a little child I used to hear it told. It is about a little boy, And the pigeons which he sold. His mother she was very poor. And kept a rich man\s gate ; Until the carriages passed through, There Jacob had to wait. Kow Jacob was a patient lad, A loving, faithful son : Of all the things the rich man had, He wanted only one. A pigeon with a crested head, And feathers soft as silk. With crimson feet and crimson bill. The rest as white as milk. 232 GOLDEN SONGS. He had some pigeons of his own ; He loved them very well ; But then his mother was so poor He reared them all to sell. He kept them in a little shed That sloped down from the roof: Great trouble had he every spring To make it waterproof. He used to count them every day, To see he had them all ; They knew his footstep when he came, And answered to his call. And one — a chocolate-colored hen — Was prettier than the rest, Because there was a gloss like gold All round its throat and breast. You know the little birds in spring Jiuild houses, where they dwell, And feed and rear tlieir little ones, And love each other well. GOLDEN SONGS. 233 So the black pigeons Jacob had Were mated with the gray ; And crested-crown and ring-neck made Their nest the first of May. For God hath made each little bird To love and need a mate ; And so the little chocolate hen Was very desolate. And Jacob thought if he could get The rich man's milk-white dove, And keep it always for his own — Now, listen to me, love : He wanted that which was not his, That which another had ; And so a great temptation grew Around the little lad. The rich man had w^hole flocks of birds, And Jacob reasoned so : '^ If I should take this one white dove. How can he ever know ? 20* 234 GOLDEN SONGS. "Among so many can he miss The one whicli I shall take ? Among so many, many birds, AVhat difference can it make ?'^ But, darling, even while his heart Throbbed with these wishes strong — And something always troubled him — He knew that it was wrong. So time passed on ; he watched the dove, Plow every day it came Nearer and nearer to the shed, More gentle and more tame. He watched it with a longing eye : At last, one summer day. He saw it settle on the roof As if it meant to stay. Now Jacob seemed a happy boy : Said he, " It has a right To choose a dwelling anywhere Most pleasant in its sight." GOLDEX SOXGS. 235 And so he scattered grains of corn And crumbs of wheaten bread, Because he thought the dove would stay Where it was kindly fed. Well, time passed on — the milk-white dove, Well pleased with Jacob's care, Soon learned to know him like the rest, And seemed right happy there. One morning he had called them all Around him to be fed. And on the ground he scattered corn, And peas, and crumbs of bread. When all at once he heard a man Outside the road-gate call : ^^ Boy, if these pigeons are for sale, I think I'll take them all.'' All ! how it smote on Jacob's ear ! ^' I see there are but eight : If you will take eight shillings down, I'll pay you at that rate." 236 GOLDEN SONGS. Js'ow, at that moment, all the birds Were feeding in the sun, But Jacob, in his startled heart, Could think of only one. And never since the milk-white dove Had joined the chocolate hen, Had he felt in his inmost heart As- he was feeling then. *^ Come — hurry, hurry V said the man ; *^ I have no time to lose; Between the shillings and the birds It can't be hard to choose.'' Poor Jacob, having once begun To do what was not right. Forgetting he was standing in His heavenly Father's sight, And knowing how his mother had A quarter's rent to pay. Felt in his heart the sense of right Was fading fast away ; GOLDEN SONGS. 237 When from the open cottage-door There came a murmuring low : It was his mother's morning hymn, Solemn, and sweet, and slow. He listened, and a holy fear AVas wakened in his heart, And strength was given him that hour To choose the better part. And turning to the stranger man A frank, untroubled eye, He said : " But seven birds are mine ; But seven you can buy.^' ^^ Oh !'' said the man, ^^ they go in pairs, And will not suit me, then f^ So Jacob sold him only six. And kept the chocolate hen. And when the evening shadows came And dew was on tlie grass. He watched outside the garden-gate To see the rich man pass. 238 GOLDEN SONGS. And in his hand the milk-white dove He held with gentle care ; And many a soft caress he laid Upon its feathers fair. And when at last the rich man came, Poor Jacob, rendered bold By feeling he was in the right, His artless story told. And after he had owned to all The wrong which he had done, And the w^orst wrong he wished to do, He lifted to the sun A happy, open, fearless face, Which won the rich man's love; And so he bade him always keep For his the milk-white dove. And Jacob, once more good and true. Stood in his mother's sight. The struggle of temptation past. The wrono; all turned to right. GOLDEN SOXGS. 239 And Jacob, with a heart at rest, Lay down upon his bed ; And whiter wings than his white dove's Were round his pillow spread. NOT READY FOR SCHOOL Pray, where is my hat — it is taken away, And my shoe-strings are" all in a knot; I can't find a thing where it should be to- day, Though I\^e hunted in every spot. Do, Racliel, just look for my Atlas up stairs. My ^sop is somewhere there too ; And, sister, just brush dow^n these trouble- some hairs. And, mother, just fasten my shoe. And, sister, beg father to write an excuse. But stop ; he will only say " No,'^ And go on with a smile, and keep reading the news, While everything bothers me so. 240 GOLDEN SONGS. My satchel is heavy and ready to fall ; This old pop-gun is breaking my map ; I'll have nothing to do with pop-gun or ball, There's no playing for such a poor chap. The town-clock will strike in a minute, I fear, Then away to the foot I must sink ; There ! look at my Carpenter tumbled down here, And my Worcester covered with ink. I wish I'd not lingered at breakfast the last, Though the toast and the butter were fine; I think that our Edward must eat pretty fast, To be off when I haven't done mine. Now Edward and Henry protest they won't wait, And beat on the door with their sticks ; I suppose they wmII say I was dressing too late; To-morrow I'll be up at six. Mrs. Oilman. INDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE A Child's Dream of Heaven 125 A Lost Day 106 An English Child in the Days of ^yickliffe 77 Anna's Good Resolutions 18 Bessie Bell 45 Beth Gelert 228 Bird's Nest 208 Bob-o'-Link 187 Busy Bee 39 Cat and Kitten 223 Christ and the Little Ones 27 Cradle Hymn 35 Cradle Hymn 42 Eternity 219 Evening Hymn 40 Evening Hymn 57 Evening Prayer 21 Forgiving 16 21 241 242 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE God Sees Me 10 Good-morning 192 Good-night and Good-morning 52 Katie's Dream 66 Let it PaF3 60 Little Bell 220 Little Bi'ssie 107 Little Deeds 50 Little Dick Snappy 13 Little Mar}' 21 Little People 5 Little Th-ngs 34 Little Willie and the Apple 104 Mary Dow 178 Minutes and Years 205 Morning Hymn 20 Mother's Last Words 128 Mrs. Lofty and 1 59 My Little Lammie 175 My Little Sifter 204 My Mother 28 Not Ready for School 239 On the Lord's Side 22 Our Baby 47 INDEX OF SUBJECTS. 243 PAGE Our Father 36 " Paddle your own Canoe" 12 "Patchie" 64 Poor Mamma 190 Popping Corn 19 Pride and Humility 56 Pussy-Cat 210 Ready for Duty 122 Ringing the Bell 119 Robin Redbreast 23 Robins 58 Seven Times One 218 Shadows 62 Speak Gently 54 The Baby 41 The Bath 209 The Blackberry-Girl 97 The Blessing of Labor 53 The Blind Boy 114 The Boy and the Flowers 26 The Boy who Never tells a Lie 182 The Childhood of Jesus 118 The Children's Hymn 31 The Child's First Grief 55 244 IXDEX OF SUBJECTS. PAGE The Commandments 31 The Drummer-Boy's Burial 183 The Father of the Fatherless 101 The Grain of Corn and the Penny ; 49 The Gray Swan 211 The Heavenly Father 116 The Little Angel 121 The Little Doves 173 The Little Fish 226 The Little Match-Girl 89 The Lost Child S5 The Love of Christ 33 The Milk-white Dove 231 The Patter of Little Feet 7 The Snow-Bird 198 The Spider and the Fly 194 The Squirrel 180 The Stolen Nest 200 The Strange Child's Christmas ' 110 The Sweet Story 32 The Tempest at Sea 84 The Two Pennies 37 The Wood-Mouse 74 To-day and To-morrow 43 Touch Not, Taste Not 57 Treasure on Earth and Treasure in Heaven 11 Tumble 205 Twinkle, LittUi Star , 38 Two Little Robins 48 IXDEX OF SUBJECTS. 245 PAGE Vesper 40 We are Seven., 214 What I Hate 206 What I Love 207 Who shall Stand in the Holy Place ? 169 Wonderful Xight ! 24 Work and Play 44 21* INDEX OF FIRST LINES. PAGE A DEAR little girl sat under a tree 52 A dreary place would be this earth 5 A grain of corn an infant's hand 49 A little bird built a warm nest in a tree 208 A little child, she read a book beside an ojDen door 77 All day long the storm of battle 183 Alone, beneath the heavy shade 85 A missionary far away 119 Another little wave upon the sea of life 41 A penny I have, it is all my own 37 As I walked over the hills one day 175 A squirrel sat on the topmost limb 180 A very pretty sight this morning I did see 58 Before the bright sun rises over the hill 21 Ben Adaui had a golden coin one day 11 Be not swift to take offence — let it pass ! 60 Call that day lost whose setting sun 106 Come here, little Robin, and don't be afraid 23 Come in, little stranger, I said 178 247 248 INDEX OF FIRST LINES, PAGE Daflfy-down-dilly came up in the cold 122 Dearest Father! dwelling high 36 Dearest mother, get my bonnet, do! 190 Dear mother, I dreamed about heaven 125 *' Dear mother !" said a little fish, '• pray is not that a fly?" 226 Dear mother, why do all the girls 45 Do you know the little wood-mouse? 72 God's trumpet wakes the slumbering world 22 Glory to thee, my God, this night 40 High on the top of an old pine tree 173 How doth the little busy bee 39 How long sometimes a day appears ! 219 How proud we are, how fond of show! 66 Hug me closer, closer, mother 107 Hush, my dear; lie still and slumber 35 I hate to sec a little girl who docs not love to rise 206 I have a little sister; she's only two years old 204 I knew a widow very poor 101 I love the good splashing and plunging and dashing.... 209 I love to sec a little girl rise with the lark so bright 207 I met a little cottage girl 214 In the green fields of Palestine 118 I think, when I read that sweet story of old 32 It was a blessed summer's day 114 It was a warm and sultry afternoon 66 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 249 PAGK Jesus loves me — this I know 33 Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me o7 Kitten, kitten ! two months old, woolly snowball Iviug snu^ 223 Labor gives rest from the sorrows that greet us o3 Little Dick Snappy was always unhappy 13 Little drops of water, little grains of sand 34 Little Willie stood under an apple tree old IC-i Little Gretchen, little Gretchen 89 Merrily swinging on brier and weed 187 Mrs. Lofty keeps a carriage — so do 1 57 Not mighty deeds make up the sum of happiness below. 50 Now I lay me down to sleep 21 Oh call my brother back to me 55 ^' Oh I am so happy!" a little girl said 192 Oh tell me, sailor, tell me true 211 Oh who before the righteous God 169 Once there was a little boy 182 One autumn night, when the wind was high.... 19 Piped the blackbird on the beechwood spray 220 Pray, where is my hat — it is taken away 239 Pussy-cat lives in the servants' hall 210 Right into our house one day .,.. 121 250 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. PAGE Sing to the Lord the children's hymn 31 Sixty second- make one minute 205 Speak gent I}': it is better far 54 Sweet baby, sleep? what ails my dear? 42 The bell had rung, the school was out 64 The candles are lighted, the fire blazes bright 62 The ground was all covered with snow one day 198 *^ The ^Master has come over Jordan" 72 The morning bright with rosy light 20 There's no dew left on the daisies and clover 218 There went a stranger child , 110 The spearman heard the bugle sound 228 The yellow fog lay thick and dim 128 This is the ju.st and great command 31 Thou that rulest earth and heaven 40 Through all the busy daylight, through all the quiet night 10 To-day ! a lisping child, with hair all golden 43 To-day we cut the fragrant sod with trembling hands asunder 47 Touch not the tempting cup, my boy, though urged by friend or foe 57 To-whit, to-whit, to-whee ! will you listen to me? 200 Tumble up, tumble down, never mind it, my sweet ! 205 Twinkle, twinkle, little star 38 Two K()))in lU'dbreasts built their nest 48 Up this world and down this world 12 Up with the sun in the morning 7 I^'DEX OF FIPvST LIXES. 251 PAGE Well, now I'll sit down and I'll work rery fast IS We were crowded in the cabin ,. 84 When thou art kneeling down at night.... .., 16 Who fed me from her gentle breast 28 Why, Phcebe. are tou come so soon ? 95 Willie, with a spirit light, was a happy little child 26 Will you have a story, darling ? 231 ** Will you walk into my parlor ?" said the spider to the fly 194 Within a town of Holland once 116 Wonderful night 24 Work while you work, play while you play 44