Who am I that shine so bright, With my pretty yellow light Peeping through your curtains gray? Tell me, little girl, I pray.
When the sun is gone, I rise In the clear and silent skies; And a cloud or two doth skim Round about my silver rim.
All the little stars do seem Hidden by my brighter beam;
And among them I do ride, Like a queen in all her pride.
Then the reaper goes along Singing forth a merry song, While I light the shaking leaves And the yellow harvest sheaves.
THE STARS ARE COMING.
See, the stars are coming In the far blue skies: Mother, look, they brighten; Are they angels' eyes?
No, my child, the lustre Of the stars is given, Like the hues of flowers, By the God of heaven.
Mother, if I study,
Sure he'll make me know
Why the stars he kindled,
O'er our earth to glow.
Child, what God created Has a glorious aim; Thine it is to worship,
Thine to love his name.
Dear little babe, she has gone to rest, Where never a sin shall stain her breast, No trouble disturb her, no fear annoy, No cloud o'ershadow her innocent joy. She has gone home to heaven, that land of love, Of light and gladness and blessing above: Her head is pillowed on Jesus' breast; Dear little babe, she is sweetly at rest.
She lived on earth but a little while, She died before we had seen her smile; But she was our sister, and is so still, Sweet Alice, we called her, and always will. We think we are glad she has gone away Where her life will be all one pleasant day, Where an unkind word she will ne'er receive, Nor speak one herself our kind hearts to grieve.
If she were here, she would often cry, And then she'd be sick, and suffer and die; But now death is over, and all the while Her cherub face may wear a smile; For she never will know or do what is wrong, And the loving angels will teach her their song: Dear sister, we wish we could be there too- Oh, when shall we come and live with you?
LITTLE STAR.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star; How I wonder what you are! Up above the world so high, Like a diamond in the sky.
When the glorious sun is set, When the grass with dew is wet, Then you show your little light, Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
In the dark blue sky you keep, And often through my curtains peep;
you never shut your eye Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark Lights the traveller in the dark, Though I know not what you are, Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
THE SNOWDROP.
Now the spring is coming on, Now the snow and ice are gone, Come, my little snowdrop-root, Will you not begin to shoot?
Ah, I see your little head Peeping from the flower-bed, Looking out so green and gay, On this fine and pleasant day.
For the mild south wind doth blow, And hath melted all the snow; And the sun shines out so warm, You need not fear another storm.
So your pretty flowers show, And your petals white undo;
Then you'll hang your modest head Down upon my flower-bed.
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