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“GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD."

DAY by day the manna fell;
Oh, to learn this lesson well!
Still by constant mercy fed,
Give me, Lord, my daily bread.

Day by day the promise reads,
Daily strength for daily needs;
Cast foreboding fears away:
Take the manna of to-day.

Thou my daily task shalt give:
Day by day to Thee I'd live :
So shall added years fulfil

Not my own-my Father's will.

CONDER.

KINDNESS TO GOD'S CREATURES.

TURN, turn thy hasty foot aside,
Nor crush that helpless worm;
The frame thy wayward looks deride
None but our God could form.

The common Lord of all that move,
From whom thy being flowed,
A portion of His boundless love
On that poor worm bestow'd.

KIND WORDS.

The light, the air, the dew, He made
To all His creatures free,

And spreads o'er earth the grassy blade
For them as well as thee.

Let them enjoy their little day,

Their lowly bliss receive:

Oh do not lightly take away
The life thou can'st not give.

GISBORNE.

79

KIND WORDS.

A LITTLE Word in kindness spoken,

A motion or a tear,

May heal a spirit broken,

And make a friend sincere.

A word, or look, has crushed to earth
Oft many a budding flower,

Which, had a smile but owned its birth,
Would have blest life's latest hour.

Then deem it not an idle thing

A kindly word to speak;

The face you wear, the smiles you bring,
May soothe a heart or break.

BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER.

Be kind to one another:

This is a world of care;

And there's enough of needful woe
For every one to bear:
But if you ease the burden

That weighs another down,
That work of Christian charity
Will lighten half your own.

Be kind to one another;

Scatter the seeds of love
Wide o'er the field of hearts, and rich
The harvest wealth will prove :
A wealth more truly precious

Than aught beneath the sun,
Which India's diamonds could not buy,
And yet-how lightly won.

Be kind to one another;

Not to the good alone,

E'en to the cold and selfish heart,
Let deeds of love be shown.
So shall ye be His children
Who rains His gifts on all,
And even upon the thankless ones
Bids His bright sunbeams fall.

A. L. WESTCOMBE.

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EVERY rounded hawthorn spray Shines with sunny tufts of May,And the child was bright as they.

Now there is a silent gloom,
While about the open tomb
All the turf is burst in bloom.

82

FUNERAL OF A CHILD IN SPRING.

With a solemn, wondering air,
Six little children slowly bear

Their strange and mournful burden there.

And they think, as they go on,

How like some young flow'r she shone,
Scarce believing she is gone.

And they wonder if the dead
Passeth with a silent tread
Through the blueness overhead;—

If the spirit, sailing near,
May their sobs of mourning hear,
Pondereth the shining tear;—

If upon her sunny wings
She may visit brighter things
Than the light of earthly springs.

Oh! it is a solemn scene

Thus to part from what hath been
When the earth is virgin-green.

Other children play around,

And the air is full of sound,

And the earth with light is crown'd.

Yet the little mourners stand

Round the grave, a weeping band,

And share their sorrows, hand in hand.

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