LITTLE CHILDREN, LOVE EACH
Little children love each other;
"Tis the blessed Saviour's rule;
Every little one is brother
To his playfellow at school.
We're all children of one Father,
The great God who reigns above.
Shall we quarrel? No, much rathe
Would we be, like him, all love.
He has placed us here together,
That we should be good and kind,
He is ever watching whether
We are one in heart and mind.
Selfish children's sad behaviour
Shows they love themselves alone,
But the children of the Saviour
Say not any thing's their own.
All they have they share with others
Give kind looks and gentle words;
Thus they live like happy brothers,
And are known to be the Lord's.
Very little things are we;
Oh how mild we all should be;
Never quarrel, never fight;
That would be a shocking sight,
And would break a happy rule
Of our much-loved infant school.
Like the pretty lambs we see,
Like the little busy bee,
We'll be gentle all the day,
Love to learn as well as play,
And attend to every rule
Of our much-loved infant school.
I like little pussy, her coat is so warm,
And if I don't hurt her, she'll do me no harm;
So I'll not pull her tail, or drive her away,
And pussy and I very gently will play.
She will sit by my side, and I'll give her some food,
And she'll love me because I am gentle and good.
Wilderspin's Infant System.
sy bee, busy bee, fly, fly about;
sit all the pretty flowers, and suck their sweetness out.
sy bee, busy bee, fly, fly away;
ther honey while you can, this clear sunshiny day.
Children, be like the bee, march, march about, Visit all your lessons now, and find their meaning Children, be like the bee, work, work away; Gather knowledge while you can, in the morning
The north wind doth blow, and we shall have
And what will the robin do then, poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn, and keep himself warm,
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.
The north wind doth blow, and we shall have
And what will the swallow do then, poor thing
Oh! do you not know that he's gone long ago
To a country much warmer than ours, poor th
The north wind doth blow, and we shall have s
And what will the honey-bee do, poor thing?
In his hive he will stay, till the cold 's gone aw
And then he'll come out in the spring, poor thi
The north wind doth blow, and we shall have s
And what will the dormouse do then, poor thin
Roll'd up like a ball, in his nest snug and small
He'll sleep till warm weather comes back, poor
The north wind doth blow, and we shall have s
And what will the children do then, poor things
When lessons are done, they'll jump, skip and r
And play till they make themselves warm, poor
I have got a tongue to talk,
Legs and feet with which to walk,
Hands which many things can do,
With most useful fingers too.
With my tongue I every day
Kind and gentle things should say,
Naughty words should never speak,
But let all be pure and meek.
On my feet I walk to school,
Just in time to break no rule,
And, when mother calls, must run,
That her will be quickly done.
I can nothing do as yet
With my hands my bread to get,
But I trust that I shall learn
Them to useful works to turn.
If we would know true delight,
We must always use aright
Every power which God imparts;
This will give us happy hearts.
Ah! little lark, I see you there,
So very, very high!
Just like a little tiny speck
Upon the clear blue sky.
How good is he who strengthens thus-
Your slight and slender wing,
And teaches such a little throat
So sweet a song to sing!
Oh turn that little foot aside,
Nor crush beneath its tread
The smallest insect of the earth,
Which looks to God for bread.
If He who made the Universe
Looks down in kindest love,
To shape an humble thing like this
From His high throne above,
Thou shouldst not dare in wantonness
That creature's life destroy,
Nor give a pang to any thing
That he has made for joy.
My child, begin with little things
To act the gentle part,
For God will turn his love away
From the cruel, selfish heart.
Ah! little lambs, you never fight,
You never growl nor scratch nor bite,
As dogs and cats so often do ;
So every body 's fond of you:
Yet no one teaches you what's right,
Nor tells you it is wrong to fight.
How very bad it then must be
For us to fight and disagree,
For we are taught day after day
What's right or wrong to do or say,
And told that God, who reigns above,
Is pleased when we each other love.
My merry little fly, come here,
And let me look at you;
I will not touch you, though you're near,
As naughty children do.
I see you spread your pretty wings,
That sparkle in the sun;
I see your legs, what tiny things,
And yet how fast they run!
You walk along the ceiling now,
And down the upright wall;
I'll ask mamma to tell me how
You walk and do not fall!
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