Part 103 (1/2)

{331}{332}

[Ill.u.s.tration]

MADONNA OF THE ANGELS By Adolph Bouguereau (1825-1905)

”The mother with the Child, Whose tender winning arts Have to His little arms beguiled So many wounded hearts.”

--_Matthew Arnold_ [End ill.u.s.tration]

{333}

AN EVENING SONG

And now another day is gone, I'll sing my Maker's praise; My comforts every hour make known His providence and grace.

But how my childhood runs to waste!

My sins, how great their sum!

Lord, give me pardon for the past, And strength for days to come.

I lay my body down to sleep, Let angels guard my head; And, through the hours of darkness, keep Their watch around my bed.

With cheerful heart I close my eyes, Since Thou wilt not remove; And in the morning let me rise, Rejoicing in Thy love.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{334}

THE SLUGGARD

'T is the voice of the Sluggard: I heard him complain, ”You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!”

As a door on its hinges, so he on his bed Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

”A little more sleep and a little more slumber!”

Thus he wastes half his days and his hours without number; And when he gets up he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

I pa.s.s'd by his garden and saw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags, And his money still wastes, till he starves or he begs.

I made him a visit, still hoping to find He had took better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking; But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

Said I then to my heart, ”Here's a lesson for me!

That man's but a picture of what I might be; But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who have taught me betimes to love working and reading.”

--_Isaac Watts_.

{335}{336}

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE DIVINE SHEPHERD By Murillo (1618-1682) [End ill.u.s.tration]

{337}