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HYMNS FOR THE NURSERY. |
183 |
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A SONG OF PRAISE.
Isaac Watts.
How glorious is our Heavenly King, Who reigns above the sky !
How shall a child presume to sing His dreadful majesty ?
How great his power is none can tell, Nor think how large his grace;
Not men below, nor saints that dwell On high before his face.
Not angels that stand round the Lord Can search his secret will;
Bat they perform his heavenly word, Aud sing his praises still.
Then let me join this holy train, And my first offerings bring;
The eternal God will not disdain To hear an infant sing.
My heart resolves, my tongue obeys,
And angels shall rejoice To hear their mighty Maker's praise
Sound from a feeble voice. |
Wilt thou be pleased to gather me Where all good children are ? |
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LONG AGO THE LORD OF GLORY.
Long ago the Lord of glory
Lived on earth, a little child ; He was gentle, he was holy,
He was always kind and mild.
He was cradled iu a manger,
Poor and humble was his bed; Jesus, when on earth a stranger,
Had not where to lay his head.
When he came, the angels, singing, Told the shepherds of his birth:
" Christ," they said, " is come! and bringing Joy and peace to you on earth!"
Let us love him, let us fear him,
Let us learn of him below; Then in heaven we shall see him;
More of him we then shall kuow. |
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A CHILD'S PETITION.
My Father, hear a little child, Who tries to pray to thee,
And may thiue eye, so kind and mild, Look down from heaven on me!
I have a very naughty heart,
That will not be at rest, And little hands that do their part
In making me unblest.
AVilt thou not take away my sin, And make me pure and good ?
Can not a little child be clean If washed in Jesus' blood ?
May I be like a little flower
That opens in the sun ! So sweetly humble every hour
Till its short day is done.
Aud if I may not live to see The close of this short year, |
THE CHILDHOOD OF JESUS.
Lv the green fields of Palestine, By its fountains and its rills,
And by the sacred Jordan's stream, And o'er the vine-clad hills,
Once lived and roved the fairest Child That ever blessed the earth,
The happiest, the holiest That e'er had human birth.
How beautiful his childhood was!
Harmless and uudefiled! Oh, dear to his young mother's heart
Was this pure, sinless Child!
Kindly in all his deeds and words,
Aud gentle as the dove, Obedient, affectionate�
His very soul was love!
Oh, is it not a blessed thought,
Children of humau birth, That once the Saviour was a child;,
And lived upon the earth ? |
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