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angel Ariana beauty beneath birds blessed blue bright called charming child childhood clear cloud comes dark darling dear delight dreams earth eyes face fair fear feet floating flowers forest fountain friends garden gentle George George William Gordon give glad grace grass green hand happy hear heard heart heaven hills holy hope HYMN JOURNAL kind kindly kiss lamb land leaves light live look mamma meet mild morning mother never night o'er passed play pleasant Poor pray prayer pretty pure remember rest RHYME round Rover seemed shade shining sing sleep smiles SONG soon sound spring stars sunshine sweet teach tell thee things thou thought told tones took trees voice waters wave wild wind wing wish wonder young
Page 174 - And they were going up to heaven, With all that had been done By little children, good or bad, Since the last rising sun. And some had gold and purple wings ; Some drooped like faded flowers, And sadly soared to tell the tale, That they were misspent Hours.
Page 175 - Others had unkind words and acts To carry upward there. A shining Hour, with golden plumes, Was laden with a deed Of generous sacrifice a child Had done for one in need. And one was bearing up a prayer A little child had said, All full of penitence and love, While kneeling by his bed.
Page 176 - And thus they glided on, and gave Their records dark and bright To Him who marks each passing hour Of childhood's day and night.
Page 58 - And when 1 sleep, then in my dreams, It sweetly comes again. It always makes me happy, Whene'er I hear its tone, I know it is the voice of love, From a heart that is my own. My Mother ! My dear Mother ! O may I never be Unkind, or disobedient, In any way, to thee.
Page 57 - MY Mother! My kind Mother! I hear thy gentle voice, It always makes my little heart Beat gladly and rejoice. When I am ill, it comes to me, And kindly soothes my pain ; And when I sleep, then in my dreams, It sweetly comes again.
Page 145 - The golden- haired— the blue-eyed, That lighted up our life, And folded were within our hearts, From all the world's rude strife — The blessings of our bosoms, The stars upon our sky, The flowers springing in our path, Too beautiful to die — They all are there— in heaven — Safe, safe, and sweetly blessed; No cloud of sin can shadow Their bright and holy rest.
Page 108 - BOY WHO TOLD A LIE. The mother looked pale, and her face was sad, She seemed to have nothing to make her glad ; She silently sat with the tears in her eye, For her dear little boy had told a lie. He was a gentle, affectionate child, His ways were winning, his temper was mild ; There was love and joy in his soft blue eye, But the dear little boy had told a lie. He stood alone by the window within, For he felt that his soul was stained...
Page 87 - CHILDHOOD OF JESUS. IN the green fields of Palestine, By its fountains and its rills, And by the sacred Jordan's stream, And o'er the vine-clad hills Once lived and roved the fairest child That ever blessed the earth ; The happiest, the holiest, That e'er had human birth. How beautiful his childhood was! Harmless and undefiled; O, dear to his young mother's heart Was this pure, sinless child!
Page 109 - And he felt that his soul was stained with sin, And his mother could hear him sob and cry, Because he had told her that wicked lie. Then he came and...
Page 44 - MAKES ME HAPPIEST? WHAT is it makes me happiest ? Is it my last new play ? Is it my bounding ball or hoop I follow every day ? Is it my puzzles, or my blocks ? My pleasant solitaire ? My dolls, my kitten, or my books ? My flowers, fresh and fair ? What is it makes me happiest ? It is not one of these ; Yet they are treasures dear to me, And never fail to please.