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FOR SUNDAY'S CHILD
_Sunday's child is full of grace._
_Old Proverb._
FOR SUNDAY'S CHILD
_All Things Bright and Beautiful_
All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord G.o.d made them all.
Each little flower that opens, Each little bird that sings, He made their glowing colours, He made their tiny wings.
The rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, G.o.d made them, high or lowly, And order'd their estate.
The purple-headed mountain, The river running by, The sunset and the morning, That brightens up the sky;--
The cold wind in the winter, The pleasant summer sun, The ripe fruits in the garden,-- He made them every one;
The tall trees in the greenwood, The meadows where we play, The rushes by the water We gather every day;--
He gave us eyes to see them, And lips that we might tell, How great is G.o.d Almighty, Who has made all things well.
Cecil Frances Alexander.
_The Still Small Voice_
Wee Sandy in the corner Sits greeting on a stool, And sair the laddie rues Playing truant frae the school; Then ye'll learn frae silly Sandy, Wha's gotten sic a fright, To do naething through the day That may gar ye greet at night.
He durstna venture hame now, Nor play, though e'er so fine, And ilka ane he met wi'
He thought them sure to ken, And started at ilk whin bush, Though it was braid daylight-- Sae do nothing through the day That may gar ye greet at night.
Wha winna be advised Are sure to rue ere lang; And muckle pains it costs them To do the thing that's wrang, When they wi' half the fash o't Might aye be in the right, And do naething through the day That would gar them greet at night.
What fools are wilfu' bairns, Who misbehave frae hame!
There's something in the breast aye That tells them they're to blame; And then when comes the gloamin', They're in a waefu' plight!
Sae do naething through the day That may gar ye greet at night.
Alexander Smart.
_The Camel's Nose_
Once in his shop a workman wrought, With languid head and listless thought, When, through the open window's s.p.a.ce, Behold, a camel thrust his face!
"My nose is cold," he meekly cried; "Oh, let me warm it by thy side!"
Since no denial word was said, In came the nose, in came the head: As sure as sermon follows text, The long and scraggy neck came next; And then, as falls the threatening storm, In leaped the whole ungainly form.
Aghast the owner gazed around, And on the rude invader frowned, Convinced, as closer still he pressed, There was no room for such a guest; Yet more astonished, heard him say, "If thou art troubled, go away, For in this place I choose to stay."
O youthful hearts to gladness born, Treat not this Arab lore with scorn!
To evil habits' earliest wile Lend neither ear, nor glance, nor smile.
Choke the dark fountain ere it flows, Nor e'en admit the camel's nose!
Lydia H. Sigourney.
_A Child's Grace_
Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it; But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit.
Robert Burns.
_A Child's Thought of G.o.d_
They say that G.o.d lives very high!
But if you look above the pines You cannot see our G.o.d. And why?
And if you dig down in the mines You never see Him in the gold, Though from Him all that's glory s.h.i.+nes.
G.o.d is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across His face-- Like secrets kept, for love, untold.
