Part 104 (1/2)

Lord, how Thy wonders are display'd Where'er I turn mine eye!

If I survey the ground I tread, Or gaze upon the sky!

There's not a plant or flower below But makes Thy glories known: And clouds arise, and tempests blow, By order from Thy throne.

Creatures (as numerous as they be) Are subject to Thy care: There's not a place where we can flee, But G.o.d is present there.

--_Isaac Watts_.

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A GENERAL SONG OF PRAISE TO G.o.d

How glorious is our heavenly King, Who reigns above the sky!

How shall a child presume to sing His dreadful majesty?

How great His power is none can tell, Nor think how large His grace: Not men below, nor saints that dwell On high before His face.

Not angels, that stand round the Lord, Can search His secret will; But they perform His heavenly word, And sing His praises still.

Then let me join this holy tram, And my first offerings bring; The eternal G.o.d will not disdain To hear an infant sing.

My heart resolves, my tongue obeys, And angels shall rejoice, To hear their mighty Maker's praise Sound from a feeble voice.

--_Isaac Watts_.

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INNOCENT PLAY

Abroad in the meadows, to see the young lambs Run sporting about by the side of their dams, With fleeces so clean and so white; Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage, When they play all in love, without anger or rage, How much we may learn from the sight!

If we had been ducks, we might dabble in mud; Or dogs, we might play till it ended in blood: So foul and so fierce are their natures; But Thomas and William, and such pretty names, Should be cleanly and harmless as doves or as lambs, Those lovely, sweet innocent creatures.

Not a thing that we do, nor a word that we say, Should injure another in jesting or play, For he's still in earnest that's hurt: How rude are the boys that throw pebbles and mire; There's none but a madman will fling about fire, And tell you, ”'T is all but in sport!”

--_Isaac Watts_.

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AGAINST QUARRELING AND FIGHTING

Let dogs delight to bark and bite, For G.o.d hath made them so; Let bears and lions growl and fight, For 't is their nature, too:

But, children, you should never let Such angry pa.s.sions rise; Your little hands were never made To tear each other's eyes.

Let love through all your actions run, And all your words be mild; Live like the blessed Virgin's Son, That sweet and lovely Child.

His soul was gentle as a lamb; And as His stature grew, He grew in favor both with man And G.o.d, His Father, too.

Now, Lord of all, He reigns above, And from His heavenly throne He sees what children dwell in love, And marks them for His own.