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OUR CHILDREN'S SACRED SONGS. |
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A CHILD'S MORNING HYMN. Lamaetine (translated by Camelia M'Fabden).
O Father ! whom my father loves!
Thou who art named on bended knee! Thou, at whose sweet and awful name
My mother's head bows reverently!
They tell me that the brilliant sun Is but a plaything of thy might,
And hangs in balance 'neath thy feet, Like a great lamp of golden light.
They tell me that the little birds In all the fields are made by thee;
And that thou givest every child A soul to know and worship thee.
They tell me thou dost make the flowers That dress the gardens gay and fair;
And that the trees no fruits could yield Without thy love and fostering care.
In all the gifts thy bounty sends
The world at large is made to share;
The smallest insect may partake
Of Nature's feast, spread everywhere.
The goat clings to the cytisus,
The lamb feeds on the tender thyme;
The fly, upon the cup's smooth edge, Dips into this white milk of mine.
The lark secures the little grain
The gleaner drops from all the rest;
Sparrows attend the winnowers,
And baby clings to mother's breast.
And then to gain these precious gifts Thou furnishest each day the same,
At noon, at night, at morning's light,
What must be done ? Pronounce thy name !
O God! this name by angels feared
Is lisped with stammering tongue by me,
And yet thou hearest every child In the great choir that praises thee.
Ah! since he understands from far The wishes that our lips shall say; |
For things that others need the most I want to ask him, day by day.
My God! give water to the streams;
Give feathers to the birds thou'st made; Give wool to all the little lambs;
And to the plains give dew and shade.
Give health to all the sick, O God!
Give bread to those who cry to thee; Give to the orphans friends and home;
And give the prisoner liberty!
Give to the man who fears the Lord Numberless children, good and dear;
Give to me wisdom, happiness,
That mother's heart be filled with cheer. |
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A CHILD'S EVENING HYMN.
The twinkling stars, with angel eyes, Begin to peep from dark'niug skies; The daisy hides her lowly head, And dew-drops light the way to bed. O Jesus, from thy throne of light, Watch o'er thy little lamb to-night.
Forgive the sins that I have done Since first uprose the golden sun, And make my spirit clean and white, Like moonbeams shining pure and bright.
0 Jesus, from thy throne of light, Forgive thy little lamb to-night.
1 thank thee on my bended knee For those dear ones thou givest me; But with my head on mother's breast, Oh, let me ever love thee best!
O Jesus, from thy throne of light, Watch over those I love to-night.
And when the darkness falls around, And I can hear no voice or sound, Dear Saviour, I shall feel no fear, Because I know that thou art near, And from thy throne of shining light Wilt guard thy little lamb to-night. |
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