The holy God who lives in heaven,
And grants us each delight;
Who safely guides us through the day,
And guards us in the night.
WHERE the pools are bright and deep,
Where the grey trout lies asleep,
Up the river, and over the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.
Where the blackbird sings the latest,
Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,
Where the nestlings chirp and flee,
That's the way for Billy and me.
Where the mowers mow the cleanest,
Where the hay lies thickest and greenest,
There to trace the homeward bee,
That's the way for Billy and me.
Where the hazel bank is steepest,
Where the shadow falls the deepest,
Where the clustering nuts fall free,
That's the way for Billy and me.
Why the boys should drive away
Little sweet maidens from their play,
Or love to banter and fight so well,
That's the thing I never could tell.
But this I know, I love to play
Through the meadow among the hay;
Up the water, and over the lea,
That's the way for Billy and me.
James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd.
REASONS FOR MIRTH.
THE sun is careering in glory and might,
'Mid the deep blue sky and the clouds so bright;
The billow is tossing its foam on high,
And the summer breezes go lightly by;
The air and the water dance, glitter, and play-
And why should not I be as merry as they?
The linnet is singing the wild wood through,
The fawn's bounding footsteps skim over the dew,
The butterfly flits round the blossoming tree,
And the cowslip and blue-bell are bent by the bee:
All the creatures that dwell in the forest are gay,
And why should not I be as merry as they?
Mary Russell Mitford.
SELF-EXAMINATION.
DID I this morn devoutly pray
For God's assistance through the day?
And did I read his sacred Word,
To make my life therewith accord?
Did I for any purpose try
To hide the truth, and tell a lie?
Did I my time and thoughts engage
As fits my duty, station, age?
Did I with care my temper guide,
Checking ill-humour, anger, pride?
Did I my lips from aught refrain
That might my fellow-creature pain?
Did I with cheerful patience bear
The little ills that all must share?
For all God's mercies through this day
Did I my grateful tribute pay?
And did I, when the day was o'er,
God's watchful aid again implore?
THE LITTLE FISH.
A LITTLE fish lived in a stream,
All clear, and smooth, and bright;
And there he played from morning's beam
Until the shades of night.
And nothing could more happy be
Than was that little thing;
But discontented now was he,
And wished to leave the spring.
He wished to go with other fishes,
And see the great big sea;
And so he told his secret wishes
Was a wise old fish, you know,
And told her pretty son
That many dangers, should he go,
That he would surely run.
She told him of the fearful shark,
That prowls along the shore;
She told him of the dolphins dark,
That swarm the ocean o'er.
Of these she told her scaly child,
And warned him not to go;
But he, alas, was young and wild,
And would not heed her! so
He went away one sunny morn,
And left his happy shore,
And ne'er again did he return,
Or taste of pleasure more.
Through many dangers did he pass,
And reach the rolling sea;
But there he met a hungry bass,
Who ate him as a pea.
THE PRESENCE OF GOD.
I KNOW, when I lie down to sleep,
That God is near my bed;
That angels watch, by His command,
Around my infant head.
I know, when I kneel down to pray,
That still my God is there;
He hears my word, He sees my thoughts,
And will accept my prayer.
I know, when I go forth to play,
That God is by my side;
Through every hour, at every step,
He is my guard and guide.
I know His eye sees everything,
In earth, and sea, and air;
That He, in darkness as in light
Can see me everywhere.
Then let me guard each thought, each word,
Lest He should chance to find Evil within a heart that should
Be gentle, meek, and kind.
GOD PROVIDETH FOR THE MORROW!
Lo, the lilies of the field,
How their leaves instruction yield!
Hark to Nature's lesson, given
By the blessed birds of heaven!
Every bush and tufted tree
Warbles sweet philosophy :—
"Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow:
God provideth for the morrow'!
"Say, with richer crimson glows
The kingly mantle, than the rose?
Say, have kings more wholesome fare
Than we poor citizens of air?
Barns nor hoarded grain have we,
Yet we carol merrily.
Mortal, fly from doubt and sorrow:
God provideth for the morrow!
"One there lives whose guardian eye
Guides our humble destiny;
One there lives, who, Lord of all,
Keeps our feathers, lest they fall.
Pass we blithely, then, the time,
Fearless of the snare and lime,*
Free from doubt and faithless sorrow:
God provideth for the morrow!"
Lime-birdlime, a substance used by birdcatchers.
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