But the love-light never went out of them, "You, children, all of you," says mamma, Grandpapa's years are wearing few, But he leaves a blessing behind, A good life lived and a good fight fought, "Remember, my children," says mamma, * 60 * DINAH MULOCH CRAIK. A CHILD'S EVENING HYMN. How beautiful the setting sun! And when the moon climbs up the sky, And hangs her crystal2 lamp on high, And can it be I am possessed Of something brighter far? Glows there a light within this breast Outshining every star? 1 equal, not variable, even. 2 crystal, bright like a clear kind of glass. Yes; should the sun and stars turn pale, The mountains melt away, This flame within shall never fail, But live in endless day. This is the soul that God has given; 1 While goodness bears it up to heaven, And leads it back to Him. MRS. FOLLEN. * 61 * CHILD-FAITH. By Alpine lake, 'neath shady rock, Unseen, the pastor lingered near; “Where'er the hills and valleys blend, The sound of prayer and praise ascend ; And raise to Heaven my evening prayer?" "My child, a prayer that ne'er can be: You have but 2 said your A, B, C." 1 lustre, brightness. 2 but, only. "I have no better way to pray, I tell the letters on my knees, S. W. LANDER. From the German. * 62 * THE OLD PROVERB. "THE boy is father to the man : I must not be a sneaking boy, But in my work, or in my play, Whatever I may say or do, Be true and honest as the day. "The boy is father to the man:" Pretty and fair, with glossy curls, "The boy is father to the man:" And take him for our copy-book. Then, looking backward, we may see EFFIE JOHNSON. * 63 * DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY. I. DAFFY-DOWN-DILLY Came up in the cold, Daffy-down-dilly Had heard under ground "Now, then," thought Daffy, "It's time I should start." So she pushed her soft leaves Through the hard frozen ground, Quite up to the surface, And then she looked round. There was snow all about her, The trees all looked dead: Poor Daffy-down felt, When the sun would not shine, II. "Cold weather!" thought Daffy,' Still working away; "The earth's hard to-day! There's but a half inch Of my leaves to be seen, And two thirds of that Is more yellow than green. "I can't do much yet; But I'll do what I can: It's well I began! For, unless I can manage To lift up my head, The people will think That the Spring herself's dead." |