SATURDAY NIGHT.
THE week is passing fast away,
The hours are almost done;
Before I rise, the Sabbath day
Will surely be begun.
Through all this week what have I done?
Have I been kind to all?
Have I sought any thing but fun,
And run at every call?
Have I been still when I was bid,
And ceased to make a noise?
Have I been good in all I did,
At lessons or at toys?
I'm naughty every day I live,
Say many a foolish word;
But God can pardon all my sins,
Through JESUS CHRIST, my LORD.
An infant's prayer He will not scorn;
I'll pray before I sleep,
And ask His love, then rest till morn,
For He my soul will keep. M. L. Duncan.
GRATITUDE TO GOD.
WHEN all Thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I'm lost
In wonder, love, and praise.
Oh, how shall words, with equal warmth,
The gratitude declare
That glows within my raptur'd heart?
But Thou canst read it there.
Unnumbered comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestowed,
Before my infant heart conceived
From whom those comforts flow'd.
When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.
When worn by sickness, oft hast Thou
With health renew'd my face;
And when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Reviv'd my soul with grace.
Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the least a cheerful heart,
That tastes those gifts with joy.
Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I'll pursue;
And after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew.
Through all eternity, to Thee
A joyful song I'll raise;
But oh, eternity's too short
To utter all Thy praise!
TABLE RULES FOR LITTLE FOLK.
IN silence I must take my seat,
And give God thanks before I eat;
Must for my food in patience wait,
Till I am asked to hand my plate;
I must not scold, nor whine, nor pout,
Nor move my chair or plate about;
With knife, or fork, or any thing,
I must not play; nor must I sing;
I must not speak a useless word,
For children must be seen-not heard;
I must not talk about my food,
Nor fret if I don't think it good;
I must not say, "The bread is old;"
"The tea is hot;"" the coffee's cold;"
I must not cry for this or that,
Nor murmur if my meat is fat;
My mouth with food I must not crowd,
Nor, while I'm eating, speak aloud;
Must turn my head to cough or sneeze,
And, when I ask, say "If you please;"
The table-cloth I must not spoil,
Nor with my food my fingers soil;
Must keep my seat when I have done,
Nor round the table sport or run;
When told to rise, then I must put
My chair away with noiseless foot;
And lift my heart to God above,
In praise for all His wondrous love.
THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
Had cheered the village with his song,
Nor yet at eve his note suspended,
Nor yet when eventide was ended,
Began to feel—as well he might—
The keen demands of appetite;
When, looking eagerly around,
He spied, far off, upon the ground,
A something shining in the dark,
And knew the glow-worm by his spark ;
So, stooping down from hawthorn top,
He thought to put him in his crop.
The worm, aware of his intent,
Harangued him thus, quite eloquent-
“Did you admire my lamp," quoth he,
"As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong,
As much as I to spoil your song;
For 'twas the self-same Power divine
Taught you to sing, and me to shine,
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night."
The songster heard his short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.
From this short fable, youth may learn
Their real interest to discern ;
The moral here given is by an unknown hand.
That brother should not strive with brother,
And worry and oppress each other,
But, joined in unity and peace,
Their mutual happiness increase;
Well pleased another's faults to hide,
And in his virtues feel a pride.
ADDRESSED TO A CHILD.
SAY not you love a roasted fowl,
But you may love a screaming owl,
And, if you can, the unwieldy toad
That crawls from his secure abode,
Within the grassy garden wall,
When evening dews begin to fall.
Oh ! mark the beauty of his eye,
What wonders in that circle lie!
So clear, so bright, our fathers said
He wears a jewel in his head !
And when, upon some showery day,
Into a path or public way,
A frog leaps out from bordering grass,
Startling the timid as they pass,
Do you observe him, and endeavour
To take the intruder into favour;
Learning from him to find a reason
For a light heart in a dull season.
And you may love the strawberry-flower,
And love the strawberry in its bower:
But when the fruit, so often praised
For beauty, to your lip is raised,
Say not you love the delicate treat,
But like it, enjoy it, and thankfully eat.
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