WHO show'd the little ant the

Her narrow hole to bore,

way

And spend the pleasant summer day In laying up her store?

The sparrow builds her clever nest
Of wool and hay and moss;
Who told her how to weave it best,
And lay the twigs across?

Who taught the busy bee to fly
Among the sweetest flowers,
And lay his feast of honey by,
To eat in winter hours?

'Twas God who show'd them all the way,

And gave their little skill;

And teaches children, if they pray,

To do his holy will.

SONGS FOR LITTLE ONES.

LITTLE BOZ.

I HAVE a little dog,

With long flowing curls
And bright black sparkling eyes,
And he loves little girls.

He has fawn-colour'd ears,
And very nice clean toes:
He's a sensible dog,

You can tell by his nose.

He'll never snarl or bite,
His temper is so mild;
And dearly loves to play
With every little child.

And every morning early,
This funny little pup
Says "Bow-wow, little Mary,
'Tis time that you were up."

SONGS FOR LITTLE ONES.

"I'M but a little child, mamma;

How many sins have I?

Can I remember all my sins,

And count them if I try ?"

"When you can count the stars, my child,
And count the leaves that lie
All scatter'd o'er the autumn fields.
Beneath the autumn sky;

"When you can count how many hairs

Are waving round your head,

And tell how many grains of sand

Lie in the ocean's bed;

"When you can count the drops of dew
That greet the morning sun;
Then you may try to number, too,
The sins that you have done."

But you have always loved me so,

And called me 'little dear;

And sure I've not been naughty more
Than ten times in a year."

"I've train'd thee as a garden plant,

And call'd thee 'little dear,' And wept to see the fruit of sin Ripe ten times in a year.

"But God looks on the heart, my child,

And reads the thoughts within; And every thought that rises there,

Is foolishness and sin."

"Can God give me another heart,
And take the bad away,
That I may never naughty be,

But love Him every day ?"

"Yes, God can cleanse your sinful thoughts,

And all your heart renew;

And often I have pray'd for this,

But you must ask it, too."

ILLUSTRATED POETRY BOCK.

105

"Lord, pity me, a little child,

And teach me how to pray;
And though I cannot count my sins,
Lord take them all away!

"Renew my heart, and make me thine, And keep me till I die;

For of my youth Thou art the guide, 'My father!' I will cry."

CHILD OF THE KINGDOM.