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TEACHING LITTLE CHILDREN.

O when thy lisping tongue shall read
Of truths divinely sweet,

May'st thou, a little child indeed,
Sit down at Jesus' feet.

I'll move thine ear, I'll point thine eye —
But ah! the inward part-

Great God, the Spirit! hear the sigh
That trembles through my heart!

Break, with thy vital beam benign,
O'er all the mental wild!
Bright o'er the human chaos shine,
And sanctify my child.

MRS. VOKE.

TEACHING LITTLE CHILDREN.

O SAY not, think not, heavenly notes
To childish ears are vain,

That the young mind at random floats,
And cannot reach the strain.

Was not our Lord a little child,
Taught by degrees to pray,
By father dear and mother mild
Instructed day by day?

THE PURE IN HEART.

And loved he not of heaven to talk
With children in his sight,

To meet them in his daily walk,
And to his arms invite?

And though some tones be weak and low,
What are all prayers beneath,

But cries of babes, that cannot know
Half the deep thought they breathe?

In his own words we Christ adore;
But angels, as we speak,
Higher above our meaning soar
Than we o'er children weak.

And yet his words mean more than they,

And yet he owns their praise;

O, think not that he turns away
From infants' simple lays!

THE PURE IN HEART.

BLEST are the pure in heart,
For they shall see our God,
The secret of the Lord is theirs,
Their soul is His abode.

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KEBLE.

120

THE CHILD AND THE ANGELS.

Still to the lowly soul

He doth Himself impart,

And for His temple and His throne

Selects the pure in heart.

KEBLE

THE CHILD AND THE ANGELS.

THE Sabbath's sun was setting low,

Amidst the clouds at even;

"Our Father," breathed a voice below,

Father, who art in heaven."

Beyond the earth, beyond the clouds,
Those infant words were given;
"Our Father," angels sang aloud. -
"Father, who art in heaven.”

"Thy kingdom come," still from the ground, That child-like voice did pray;

"Thy kingdom come," God's hosts resound,

Far up the starry way.

"Thy will be done," with little tongue,

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That lisping love implores;

Thy will be done," the angelic throng
Sing from the heavenly shores.

GOD OUR FATHER.

"Forever," still those lips repeat, Their closing evening prayer; "Forever," floats in music sweet, High 'midst the angels there."

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CHARLES SWAIN.

GOD OUR FATHER.

WE are not orphans on the earth,
Though friends and parents die;
One Parent never bows to death, -
One Friend is ever nigh.

Even he who lit the stars of old,
And filled the ocean broad,

Whose works and ways are manifold, -
Our father is our God.

There comes no change upon his years,

No failure to his hand;

His love will lighten all our cares,
His law our steps command.

May Christ who for our sakes the gloom
Of death's dark valley trod,

Bring us all safe at last to him, —
Our Father and our God!

SUNDAY-SCHOOL HYMNS.

YEA, fear not, fear not little ones;
There is in heaven an Eye

That looks with yearning fondness down
On all the paths ye try.

'Tis He who guides the sparrow's wing,
And guards her little brood;

Who hears the ravens when they cry,
And fills them all with food.

'Tis He who clothes the field with flowers,
And pours the light abroad;

"T is He who numbers all your hours,
Your Father and your God.