Devotional Poetry for the Children. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Thou’rt up betimes, my little bird,

      And out this morning early,

      For still the tender bud is closed,

      And still the grass is pearly.

      Why rise so soon, thou little bird,

      Thy soft, warm nest forsaking?

      To brave the dull, cold morning sky,

      While day is scarcely breaking?

      Ah! thou art wise, thou little bird,

      For fast the hours are flying;

      And this young day, but dawning now,

      Will soon, alas! be dying.

      I’ll learn of thee, thou little bird,

      And slothful habits scorning,

      No longer sleep youth’s dawn away,

      Nor waste life’s precious morning.

      Father, – an orphan’s prayer receive,

      And listen to my plaintive cry:

      Thou only canst my wants relieve,

      Who art my Father in the sky.

      I have no father here below,

      No mother kind to wipe my tears, —

      These tender names I never know,

      To soothe my grief and quell my fears.

      But Thou wilt be my parent, – nigh

      In every hour of deep distress,

      And listen to an orphan’s sigh,

      And soothe the anguish of my breast.

      For Thou hast promised all I need,

      More than a father’s, mother’s care:

      Thou wilt the hungry orphan feed,

      And always listen to my prayer.

      Dear Lord, another day has come,

      And through the hours of night,

      In a good bed and quiet home

      I’ve slept till morning light.

      Then let me give Thee thanks and praise,

      For Thou art very good;

      Oh, teach my little heart to raise

      The prayer that children should.

      Keep me this day from faults and sin,

      And make me good and mild;

      Thy Holy Spirit place within,

      Grant grace unto a child.

      Help me obey my parents dear,

      For they are very kind;

      And when the hour of rest draws near,

      Another prayer I’ll find.

      The day is gone, – the silent night

      Invites me to my peaceful bed;

      But, Lord, I know that it is right

      To thank Thee, ere I rest my head.

      For my good meals and pleasant hours,

      That I have had this present day,

      Let me exert my infant powers

      To praise Thee, nor forget to pray.

      Thou art most good. I can’t tell all

      That Thou hast ever done for me;

      My Shepherd, now on Thee I call,

      From dangers still preserve me free.

      If I’ve been naughty on this day,

      Oh! make me sorry for my fault;

      Do Thou forgive, and teach the way

      To follow Jesus as I ought.

      And now I’ll lay me down to rest,

      Myself, – my friends, – all safely keep;

      May Thy great name be ever blest,

      Both when we wake, and when we sleep.

      A moment too late, my beautiful bird, —

      A moment too late are you now,

      The wind has your soft, downy nest disturbed, —

      The nest that you hung on the bough.

      A moment too late, – that string in your bill

      Would have fastened it firmly and strong;

      But see, there it goes rolling over the hill!

      Oh! you tarried a moment too long.