 | My little song book : adapted to children and youth |  |
1. PART FIRST
The Petition.
O thou! who didst callYoung children to thee;
Hear our petition
Though feeble it be.—
Thy love and thy blessing
We children would claim;—
We come at thy summons,
We sing in thy name;—
O breathe in our hearts
Sweet Peace from the skies,
And joyful, dear Saviour,
Our voices shall rise!
10
Birds.
If ever I see,
On bush or tree,
Young birds in a pretty nest,
I must not, in my play,
Steal the birds away,
To grieve their mother's breast.
On bush or tree,
Young birds in a pretty nest,
I must not, in my play,
Steal the birds away,
To grieve their mother's breast.
My mother, I know,
Would sorrow so,
Should I be stolen away;
So I'll speak to the birds,
In my softest words,
Nor hurt them in my play.
Would sorrow so,
Should I be stolen away;
So I'll speak to the birds,
In my softest words,
Nor hurt them in my play.
And when they can fly,
In the bright blue sky,
They'll warble a song to me;
And then, if I'm sad,
It will make me glad
To think they are happy and free.
In the bright blue sky,
They'll warble a song to me;
And then, if I'm sad,
It will make me glad
To think they are happy and free.
11
Where Shall We Go?
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
The glorious sun is rising fast,
And morn's cool hours will soon be past.
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
The glorious sun is rising fast,
And morn's cool hours will soon be past.
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
In the morn the heart is lightest,
In the morn the mind is brightest,
Morning is the hour for study—
Now to school—'tis time already;
There will we go,
There will we go,
There, oh there, there will we go—
We will go, we will go, we will go—
There will we go.
In the morn the mind is brightest,
Morning is the hour for study—
Now to school—'tis time already;
There will we go,
There will we go,
There, oh there, there will we go—
We will go, we will go, we will go—
There will we go.
12
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
The scorching noon-tide heat is past,
And fleecy clouds the sky o'ercast;
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
The scorching noon-tide heat is past,
And fleecy clouds the sky o'ercast;
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
Down the vale and o'er the mountain,
Through the grove, beside the fountain,
Resting in the pleasant bowers,
Culling all the bright-eyed flowers—
There will we go,
There will we go,
There, oh there, there will we go—
We will go, we will go, we will go—
There will we go.
Through the grove, beside the fountain,
Resting in the pleasant bowers,
Culling all the bright-eyed flowers—
There will we go,
There will we go,
There, oh there, there will we go—
We will go, we will go, we will go—
There will we go.
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
The evening shadows lengthen fast,
The sun's low, level rays are cast;
Where shall we go,
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
The evening shadows lengthen fast,
The sun's low, level rays are cast;
13
Where shall we go,
Where, oh where, where shall we go?
Home, to greet our gentle mother,
Kindest father, sister, brother;
All our sweetest flowers we'll give them,—
Oh! how gladly they'll receive them.
Home we will go—
Home we will go—
Home, home, home, home we will go—
We will go, we will go, we will go—
Home we will go.
Kindest father, sister, brother;
All our sweetest flowers we'll give them,—
Oh! how gladly they'll receive them.
Home we will go—
Home we will go—
Home, home, home, home we will go—
We will go, we will go, we will go—
Home we will go.
16
The Coral Branch.
I thought my branch of coral
A pretty shrub might be,
Until I learned a little worm
Had made it in the sea—
Down, down so deep,
Where dark waters sleep,
The coral insect lives;
But rests not there,
With toil and care,
It upward, upward strives.
A pretty shrub might be,
Until I learned a little worm
Had made it in the sea—
Down, down so deep,
Where dark waters sleep,
The coral insect lives;
But rests not there,
With toil and care,
It upward, upward strives.
It builds its coral palaces,
Than lofty hills more high;
And then, the structure to complete,
The little worm must die,—
Thus teaching me,
When coral I see,
That, dying, I should leave
Some good work here,
My friends to cheer,
When o'er my tomb they grieve.
Than lofty hills more high;
And then, the structure to complete,
The little worm must die,—
Thus teaching me,
When coral I see,
That, dying, I should leave
Some good work here,
My friends to cheer,
When o'er my tomb they grieve.
17
The Stars.
See, the stars are coming,
In the far blue skies!
Mother, look! they brighten—
Are they angels' eyes?
In the far blue skies!
Mother, look! they brighten—
Are they angels' eyes?
No, my child, the lustre
Of the stars is given,
Like the hues of flowers,
By the God of heaven.
Of the stars is given,
Like the hues of flowers,
By the God of heaven.
Mother, if I study,
Sure He'll let me know
Why the stars He kindled,
O'er our earth to glow?—
Sure He'll let me know
Why the stars He kindled,
O'er our earth to glow?—
Child, what God has finished
Has a glorious aim:
Thine it is to worship,
Thine to love His name.
Has a glorious aim:
Thine it is to worship,
Thine to love His name.
18
Wild Flowers.
Flowers, wild-wood flowers—
In a sheltered dell they grew:
I hurried along, and chanced to spy
This small star-flower, with its silver eye;
Then this blue daisy peeped up its head,
Sweetly this purple orchis spread,—
I gathered them all for you;
All these wild-wood flowers,
Sweet wild-wood flowers.
In a sheltered dell they grew:
I hurried along, and chanced to spy
This small star-flower, with its silver eye;
Then this blue daisy peeped up its head,
Sweetly this purple orchis spread,—
I gathered them all for you;
All these wild-wood flowers,
Sweet wild-wood flowers.
Flowers, lovely flowers—
In the garden we may see;
The rose is there, with her ruby lip,
Pinks, the honey-bee loves to sip,
Tulips, gay as a butterfly's wing,
Marygolds, rich as the crown of a king;
But none so fair to me,
As these wild-wood flowers,
Sweet wild-wood flowers.
In the garden we may see;
The rose is there, with her ruby lip,
Pinks, the honey-bee loves to sip,
Tulips, gay as a butterfly's wing,
Marygolds, rich as the crown of a king;
But none so fair to me,
As these wild-wood flowers,
Sweet wild-wood flowers.
19
Flowers, wild-wood flowers—
Do they not tell of heaven
O, man may garnish his garden bowers,
But who hath tended these wild-wood flowers?
Is it not He who rules above,
Sending these tokens of his love
—God's own hand hath given
These sweet wild-wood flowers,
Sweet wild-wood flowers.
Do they not tell of heaven
O, man may garnish his garden bowers,
But who hath tended these wild-wood flowers?
Is it not He who rules above,
Sending these tokens of his love
—God's own hand hath given
These sweet wild-wood flowers,
Sweet wild-wood flowers.
20
No Home.
(“Children's Song.”)
“No home—no home”—I heard him sigh,
The tears were trembling in his eye,
And then he would not join our play,
—I'm sure he never can be gay.
The tears were trembling in his eye,
And then he would not join our play,
—I'm sure he never can be gay.
No home—no home—where will he go?
His voice was sad, his step was slow—
O, whither, whither, should I flee,
If there was not a home for me!
His voice was sad, his step was slow—
O, whither, whither, should I flee,
If there was not a home for me!
My home—my home—how brightly come
The thoughts that whisper of my home;
—Its pleasant rooms, its flowers and books—
And then my mother's loving looks!
The thoughts that whisper of my home;
—Its pleasant rooms, its flowers and books—
And then my mother's loving looks!
Dear home—dear home—ne'er let me be
Compelled to wander far from thee,
Like yon poor orphan boy to roam,
And sighing say—“No home—no home!”
Compelled to wander far from thee,
Like yon poor orphan boy to roam,
And sighing say—“No home—no home!”
24
Winter Pleasures.
(“If ever I see.”)
I never will say,
“How cold to-day!”—
And shiver, and shake, and moan;—
The winter has joys
For us, little boys,
We'll sing in a joyous tone.
“How cold to-day!”—
And shiver, and shake, and moan;—
The winter has joys
For us, little boys,
We'll sing in a joyous tone.
There's the quiet slide,
And the glad sleigh-ride,
When the bells are gingling free,
And the merry snow-ball,
And better, than all,
The coasting trade for me.
And the glad sleigh-ride,
When the bells are gingling free,
And the merry snow-ball,
And better, than all,
The coasting trade for me.
But I would not play
Through the cold bleak day;
And how happy it is to go
To the warm school-room,
Or my dear, dear home—
Away from the cold and snow.
Through the cold bleak day;
And how happy it is to go
To the warm school-room,
Or my dear, dear home—
Away from the cold and snow.
25
So I never will say,
“How cold to-day!”—
And shiver, and shake, and moan—
The winter has joys
For us little boys,
We'll sing in a joyous tone.
“How cold to-day!”—
And shiver, and shake, and moan—
The winter has joys
For us little boys,
We'll sing in a joyous tone.
26
Welcome The Stranger.
(“Gather yon rose-buds, &c.”)
Welcome, young stranger, welcome here,—
We call you friend already;
All our gay pastimes you shall share,
And share our cheerful study.—
Never can youth true pleasure find
In idle sports alone,
But here the body and the mind
Their proper worth are shown.
We call you friend already;
All our gay pastimes you shall share,
And share our cheerful study.—
Never can youth true pleasure find
In idle sports alone,
But here the body and the mind
Their proper worth are shown.
Welcome, then, kindly welcome here,
—Our hearts are in the chorus;
O, we rejoice that you will share
The pleasant days before us.—
Sweeter our morning songs will blend,
Another voice with ours,
And faithfully our Teacher 'll tend
The bud among the flowers.
—Our hearts are in the chorus;
O, we rejoice that you will share
The pleasant days before us.—
Sweeter our morning songs will blend,
Another voice with ours,
And faithfully our Teacher 'll tend
The bud among the flowers.
27
Welcome, young stranger, welcome here,—
We call you friend already
All our gay pastimes you shall share,
And share our pleasant study.
Banish, we pray you, banish fear;
Here's none but friends around:
Love's brightest flowers we cherish here,
And not a thorn to wound.
We call you friend already
All our gay pastimes you shall share,
And share our pleasant study.
Banish, we pray you, banish fear;
Here's none but friends around:
Love's brightest flowers we cherish here,
And not a thorn to wound.
Welcome, then kindly, welcome here,
Our hearts are in the chorus,
O, we rejoice that you will share
The happy days before us.
Our hearts are in the chorus,
O, we rejoice that you will share
The happy days before us.
28
Parting Strain.
A bird and a rose-bud—
These were my first treasures—
And well I remember
They told me life's pleasures
Were fading and fleeting,
Oft gone with the greeting.—
I did not believe them—
Alas! the next day
My sweet rose lay withered,
My bird flew away!
Away, away;—
My sweet rose lay withered,
My bird flew away.
These were my first treasures—
And well I remember
They told me life's pleasures
Were fading and fleeting,
Oft gone with the greeting.—
I did not believe them—
Alas! the next day
My sweet rose lay withered,
My bird flew away!
Away, away;—
My sweet rose lay withered,
My bird flew away.
'Tis thus with young friendships,—
The dearer we cherish
Our pleasant companions,
The sooner they vanish;
Like birds in the wild-wood,—
But the true heart of child-hood
Will never forget them—
And oft we shall say,
O, why did they leave us,
And go far away?
Away, away—
O, why did they leave us,
And go far away?
The dearer we cherish
Our pleasant companions,
The sooner they vanish;
Like birds in the wild-wood,—
But the true heart of child-hood
Will never forget them—
29
O, why did they leave us,
And go far away?
Away, away—
O, why did they leave us,
And go far away?
Hence learn we the lesson,
That joy is unstable,
Our life a vain shadow
The world but a fable;
That partings and crosses,
And sorrows and losses
Will ever attend us,
On earth while we stay;
And we, like our pleasures,
Are passing away,
Away, away—
And we, like our pleasures,
Are passing away.
That joy is unstable,
Our life a vain shadow
The world but a fable;
That partings and crosses,
And sorrows and losses
Will ever attend us,
On earth while we stay;
And we, like our pleasures,
Are passing away,
Away, away—
And we, like our pleasures,
Are passing away.
30
Tribute to our Teacher.
Beneath thick shrubs,
Where dark leaves spread,
A budded flower
Once raised its head—
Not a gleam of sunshine,
Not a drop of dew,
To make the buds bloom,
Could find its way through.
Where dark leaves spread,
A budded flower
Once raised its head—
Not a gleam of sunshine,
Not a drop of dew,
To make the buds bloom,
Could find its way through.
But a gardener came
Where the pale buds lay,
And he plucked the shrubs
And dark leaves away;
Then the bright flower breathed
Its sweets on the air,
As though it would thank
The kind gardener's care.
Where the pale buds lay,
And he plucked the shrubs
And dark leaves away;
Then the bright flower breathed
Its sweets on the air,
As though it would thank
The kind gardener's care.
The young mind thus,
In the world's cold shade,
Dark errors round,
Would pine and fade;—
But the Teacher comes
And the gloom is riven,
And our hearts expand
In the light of heaven.
In the world's cold shade,
Dark errors round,
Would pine and fade;—
31
And the gloom is riven,
And our hearts expand
In the light of heaven.
A monitor
The flower shall be—
My own dark mind
In the bud I see—
My Teacher's care
In its opening bloom—
And my gratitude
In its sweet perfume.
The flower shall be—
My own dark mind
In the bud I see—
My Teacher's care
In its opening bloom—
And my gratitude
In its sweet perfume.
| My little song book : adapted to children and youth | |