Moderato.

1. Our Father in heav-en, We hal-low thy name, 2. For - give our transgressions, And teach us to know

May

The

thy kingdom ho - ly On earth be the same!
hum-ble com-pas-sion That par- dons each foe;

give to us daily Our por-tion of bread,
us from temp - ta- tion, From weakness and sin,

Keep

It And

German.

Ten-der-ly and low,
See how fair we grow.
Be our lot be - low,
See how fair they grow.

1. Yea, fear not, fear not. little ones; There is in heaven an Eye That 2. 'Tis He who guides the sparrow's wing, And guards her little brood; Who 3. 'Tis He who clothes the fields with flowers, And pours the light abroad; 'Tis Ye are the chosen of His love, His most peculiar care; And 5. Then fear not, fear not, little ones; There is in heaven an Eye That

4.

92 4

looks with yearning fondness down On all the paths ye try. hears the ravens when they cry, And gives them all their food. He who numbers all your hours, Your Father and your God. will he guide the fluttering dove, And not regard your prayer? looks with yearning fondness down On all the paths ye try.

What tho' the summer day, Pass - es at eve
Like childhood's simple rhymes, Said o'er a thousand times,
Many a happy thing, Shall to the spir it cling,

a-way,

1. Lo! the great sun in his glory, Bringeth his beams from the sea;
Lighting with red the green hillside, Purple and golden to see.
2. Sweetly with songs do we greet thee, Holy and beautiful day;
Cheerfully, joyfully meet thee, Singing our youth's happy lay.

HOLY AND BEAUTIFUL DAY--Concluded. 241

Solemn the stars have retreated, Vanished in majesty bright;
Stay with us, stay with our bright band, Where there is singing andjoy,

And in the glowing ho-rizon, Shineth the angel of light.
Let not too quickly the sweet hours Our happy meeting destroy.

No. 12. THE EYES OF ALL WAIT UPON THEE.

Moderato.

Danish.

way

1. Who showed the tiny ant the
And spend the pleasant summer day
2. Who taught the busy bee to fly
And lay his feast of hon-ey by

Lit-tle holes to bore,
Laying up her store?
To the sweetest flowers,
For the winter hours?

The sparrow builds her clever nest Of softest hay and moss:
'Tis God who shows them all the way. And gives their little skill,

Who told her how to weave it best,
And teaches children, if they pray,

Laying twigs across?
How to do his will.