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“ Mother, who made the stars which light

The beautiful blue sky?
Who made the moon so clear and bright,

That rises up on high ?”

"'T was God, my child, the glorious One

He formed them by his power; He made alike the brilliant sun,

And every leaf and flower.

“ He made your little feet to walk;

Your sparkling eyes to see ;
Your busy, prattling tongue to talk.;

And limbs so light and free.

“ He paints each fragrant flower that blows

With loveliness and bloom ; He gives the violet and rose,

Their beauty and perfume.

“Our various wants his hands supply;

His care protects us every hour; We're kept beneath his watchful eye,

And always guarded by his power.

“ Then let your little heart, my love,

Its grateful homage pay,
To this kind Friend, who from above,

So gently guides your way.”


How happy those dear children were

Whom the Redeemer blessed; Whom, while he breathed that fervent prayer,

He folded to his breast!

How powerful was that prayer to bring

All blessings from above!
How true to lead them to the spring

Of everlasting love!

How mighty to preserve from sin,

And every dangerous snare! Oh! how I've wished that I had been

A child among them there!

But thanks to that Almighty Friend!

He is the same to-day,
As when he thus refused to send

Those babes unblessed away.


Tell me not of rich Peru,

With her gold and silver mines; Give ine eyes of faith, to view

Jesus, where all treasure shines.

Tell me not of diamonds fair,

That adorn a monarch's crown: Let me Jesus' riches share,

Riches never fully known.

Tell me not of India's store,

Costly silks and satins fine:
Let my heart by faith explore

Jesus' robe of grace divine.

Sing not of Arabia's gems,

Fragrant fields, and spices sweet: Jesus sheds more rich perfumes

Round his high celestial seat.

Tell me not of power and fame;

Empty things they are to me:
Let me chant my Jesus' name

Through a long eternity.


Will the great God, who reigns on high,
With glory crowned, above the sky,
Worshipped by a bright angel throng,
List to an infant's humble song ?

Will He, who made each shining star
To throw its twinkling beams so far,
Friendly, and gently condescend,
To be my Father, and my Friend ?
And, will he bow his listening ear,
Gracious, my murmured prayers to hear;
And from his lofty seat above,
Bless me, with His forgiving love ?
He will; I hear the Saviour's voice,
It bids my doubting heart rejoice,-
“Suffer young babes to me to come,
For I'm their Saviour, heaven their home.”


God is in heaven-can he hear

A little prayer like mine? Yes, thoughtful child, thou need'st not fear,

He listeneth to thine.

God is in heaven-can he see

When I am doing wrong?
Yes, that he can,-he looks at thee

All day, and all night long.
God is in heaven,—would he know

If I should tell a lie?
Yes, if thou saidst it very low,

He'd hear it in the sky.

God is in heaven, does he care,

Or is he good to me?
Yes, all thou hast to eat or wear,

'T is God that giveth thee.

God is in heaven, can I go

To thank him for his care?
Not yet, but love him here below,

And he will see it there,

God is in heaven,-may


pray To go there when I die Yes, love, be good, and then, one day,

He 'll call thee to the sky.


God of my life, my morning song

To thee I cheerful raise ; Thy works of love 't is good to sing,

And pleasant 't is to praise. Preserved by thy almighty arm,

I passed the shades of night; Serene, and safe from every harm

I see the morning light. While many spent the night in cries,

Distressed with pains and woes, In gentle sleep I closed my eyes,

And rose from sweet repose.
O let the same almighty care,

Keep me in all my ways;
Smile on my minutes as they roll,

And guide my future days.


Glory to thee, my God, this night,
For all the blessings of the light;
Keep me, o keep me, King of kings,
Beneath thine own almighty wings.
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
The ills that I this day have done,
That with the world, myself and thee,
1, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

Teach me to live that I may dread
The grave, as little as my bed.
Teach me to die, that so I may
With joy behold the judgment day.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise him all creatures here below,
Praise him above, celestial train,
Let the whole heavens resound his name.


The Saviour from his throne,

All little children sees;
And they who are his own,

Will try their Lord to please. •

He looks with eyes of love

When they kneel down to pray,
And from his home above,

Instructs them what to say.

He bids them all to seek,

For they shall surely find ;
His word he will not break,

For he is true and kind.

Then, little children, come!

Obey your Saviour's call;
He'll take you safely home,

He'll be your wall in all.


In winter where can be the flowers,

And leaves that look so green?
There's not a bud in all the bowers,

Or daisy to be seen!
And who will bring them back again,

When pleasant spring comes out ?
And plant them up and down the lane,

And spread them all about ?

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