 | Poetry for children |  |
Samuel.
There came to Zion's courts, a guest,
With meek and reverent air,
Whose tender, watchful eye express'd
A mother's anxious care.
And by his hand, a boy she brought,
And thus the priest bespake,—
“Lo! of my God, this son was sought,
The gift to him I make.”
With meek and reverent air,
Whose tender, watchful eye express'd
A mother's anxious care.
And by his hand, a boy she brought,
And thus the priest bespake,—
“Lo! of my God, this son was sought,
The gift to him I make.”
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She hid the tear-drop in her heart,
And musing, homeward sped,
While the fond child, compell'd to part,
Wept on his lonely bed.
When night hung heavy in her sphere,
And all was dark with shade,
Jehovah's voice address'd his ear,
And answering, he obey'd.
And musing, homeward sped,
While the fond child, compell'd to part,
Wept on his lonely bed.
When night hung heavy in her sphere,
And all was dark with shade,
Jehovah's voice address'd his ear,
And answering, he obey'd.
The priest observed with wondering care
The grace to Samuel given,
Beholding how a mother's prayer
Might win the grace of Heav'n;
For pure devotion's holy flame
Was with his stature rear'd,
Till Hannah's son, a Seer became,
By listening Israel fear'd.
The grace to Samuel given,
Beholding how a mother's prayer
Might win the grace of Heav'n;
For pure devotion's holy flame
Was with his stature rear'd,
Till Hannah's son, a Seer became,
By listening Israel fear'd.
| Poetry for children | |