The Works of the Reverend and Learned Isaac Watts, D. D. ::

402

A SLIGHT SPECIMEN OF MORAL SONGS: SUCH AS I WISH SOME HAPPY AND CONDESCENDING GENIUS WOULD UNDERTAKE FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN, AND PERFORM MUCH BETTER.

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The sense and subject might be borrowed plentifully from the Proverbs of Solomon, from all the common appearances of nature, from all the occurrences in civil life, both in city and country: (which would also afford matter for other divine songs.) Here the language and measures should be easy, and flowing with cheerfulness, with or without the solemnities of religion, or the sacred names of God and holy things; that children might find delight and profit together.

This would be one effectual way to deliver them from the temptations of loving or learning those idle, wanton, or profane songs, which give so early an ill taint to the fancy and memory, and become the seeds of future vices.

SONG 1.—The Sluggard.

I

'Tis the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,
‘You have wak'd me too soon, I must slumber again;’
As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed,
Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

II

‘A little more sleep and a little more slumber;’
Thus he wastes half his days, and his hours without number;
And when he gets up, he sits folding his hands,
Or walks about sauntring, or trifling he stands.

III

I pass'd by his garden, and saw the wild brier,
The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher:
The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags;
And his money still wastes, till he starves or he begs.

IV

I made him a visit, still hoping to find,
He had took better care for improving his mind:
He told me his dreams, talk'd of eating and drinking:
But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

V

Said I then to my heart, ‘Here's a lesson for me;’
That man's but a picture of what I might be:
But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,
Who taught me betimes to love working and reading.

SONG 2.—Innocent Play.

I

Abroad in the meadows to see the young lambs,
Run sporting about by the side of their dams,
With fleeces so clean and so white;
Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage,
When they play all in love, without anger or rage,
How much we may learn from the sight!

II

If we had been ducks, we might dabble in mud,
Or dogs, we might play till it ended in blood;
So foul and so fierce are their natures:
But Thomas and William, and such pretty names,
Should be cleanly and harmless as doves or as lambs,
Those lovely sweet innocent creatures.

III

Not a thing that we do, nor a word that we say,
Should hinder another in jesting or play;
For he's still in earnest that's hurt:
How rude are the boys that throw pebbles and mire!
There's none but a madman will fling about fire,
And tell you, ‘'Tis all but in sport.’

SONG 3.—The Rose.

I

How fair is the rose! what a beautiful flow'r!
The glory of April and May!
But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour,
And they wither and die in a day.

403

II

Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast,
Above all the flowers of the field;
When its leaves are all dead, & fine colours are lost,
Still how sweet a perfume it will yield!

III

So frail is the youth and the beauty of men,
Tho' they bloom and look gay like the rose;
But all our fond care to preserve them is vain;
Time kills them as fast he goes.

IV

Then I'll not be proud of my youth or my beauty,
Since both of them wither and fade;
But gain a good name by well doing my duty;
This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.

SONG 4.—The Thief.

I

Why should I deprive my neighbour
Of his goods against his will?
Hands were made for honest labour,
Not to plunder or to steal.

II

'Tis a foolish self-deceiving
By such tricks to hope for gain:
All that's ever got by thieving,
Turns to sorrow, shame, and pain.

III

Have not Eve and Adam taught us
Their sad profit to compute?
To what dismal state they brought us,
When they stole forbidden fruit?

IV

Oft we see a young beginner
Practise little pilf'ring ways,
Till grown up a harden'd sinner:
Then the gallows ends his days.

V

Theft will not be always hidden,
Though we fancy none can spy:
When we take a thing forbidden,
God beholds it with his eye.

VI

Guard my heart, O God of heaven,
Lest I covet what's not mine:
Lest I steal what is not given,
Guard my heart and hands from sin.

SONG 5.—The Ant or Emmet.

I

These emmets, how little they are in our eyes!
We tread them to dust, and a troop of them dies,
Without our regard or concern:
Yet as wise as we are, if we went to their school,
There's many a sluggard and many a fool,
Some lessons of wisdom might learn.

II

They dont wear their time out in sleeping or play,
But gather up corn in a sun-shiny day,
And for winter they lay up their stores:
They manage their work in such regular forms,
One would think they foresaw all the frost and the storms,
And so brought their food within doors.

III

But I have less sense than a poor creeping ant,
If I take not due care for the things I shall want,
Nor provide against dangers in time:
When death or old age shall stare in my face,
What a wretch shall I be in the end of my days,
If I trifle away all my prime!

IV

Now, now, while my strength and my youth are in bloom,
Let me think what will serve me when sickness shall come,
And pray that my sins be forgiv'n:
Let me read in good books, and believe and obey,
That, when death turns me out of this cottage of clay,
I may dwell in a palace in heav'n.

SONG 6.—Good Resolutions.

I

Though I'm now in younger days,
Nor can tell what shall befal me,
I'll prepare for every place
Where my growing age shall call me.

II

Should I e'er be rich or great,
Others shall partake my goodness;
I'll supply the poor with meat,
Never shewing scorn or rudeness.

III

Where I see the blind or lame,
Deaf or dumb, I'll kindly treat them;
I deserve to feel the same
If I mock or hurt or cheat them.

IV

If I meet with railing tongues,
Why should I return them railing,
Since I best revenge my wrongs
By my patience never failing!

V

When I hear them telling lies,
Talking foolish, cursing, swearing;
First I'll try to make them wise,
Or I'll soon go out of hearing.

VI

What though I be low and mean,
I'll engage the rich to love me,
While I'm modest, neat, and clean,
And submit when they reprove me.

VII

If I should be poor and sick,
I shall meet, I hope with pity;
Since I love to help the weak,
Though they're neither fair nor witty.

404

VIII

I'll not willingly offend;
Nor be easily offended;
What's amiss I'll strive to mend,
And endure what can't be mended.

IX

May I be so watchful still
O'er my humours and my passion,
As to speak and do no ill,
Though it should be all the fashion.

X

Wicked fashions lead to hell;
Ne'er may I be found complying;
But in life behave so well,
Not to be afraid of dying.

SONG 7.—A Summer Evening.

I

How fine has the day been, how bright was the sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he run,
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there follow'd some droppings of rain!
But now the fair traveller's come to the West,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best,
He paints the sky gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretels a bright rising again.

II

Just such is the christian: his course he begins,
Like the sun in a mist, when he mourns for his sins,
And melts into tears: then he breaks out and shines,
And travels his heav'nly way;
But when he comes nearer to finish his race,
Like a fine setting sun he looks richer in grace,
And gives a sure hope at the end of his days,
Of rising in brighter array.

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Some Copies of the following Hymn having got abroad already into several Hands, the Author has been persuaded to permit it to appear in Public, at the end of these Songs for Children.

A Cradle Hymn.

I

Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber,
Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings, without number,
Gently falling on thy head.

II

Sleep my babe; thy food and raiment,
House and home thy friends provide;
All without thy care or payment,
All thy wants are well supply'd.

III

How much better thou'rt attended
Than the Son of God could be;
When from heaven he descended,
And became a child like thee!

IV

Soft and easy is thy cradle,
Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay;
When his birth-place was a stable,
And his softest bed was hay.

V

Blessed babe! what glorious features,
Spotless fair, divinely bright!
Must he dwell with brutal creatures!
How could angels bear the sight!

VI

Was there nothing but a manger
Cursed sinners could afford,
To receive the heav'nly stranger!
Did they thus affront their Lord!

VII

Soft, my child; I did not chide thee,
Tho' my song might sound too hard,
'Tis thy Mother/Nurse that sits beside thee,
And her arms shall be thy guard.

VIII

Yet to read the shameful story,
How the Jews abus'd their King;
How they serv'd the Lord of glory,
Makes me angry while I sing.

IX

See the kinder shepherds round him,
Telling wonders from the sky!
Where they sought him, there they found him,
With his virgin mother by.

X

See the lovely babe a dressing;
Lovely infant, how he smil'd!
When he wept, the mother's blessing
Sooth'd and hush'd the holy child.

XI

Lo, he slumbers in his manger,
Where the horned oxen fed;
Peace, my darling, here's no danger,
Here's no ox a-near thy bed.

XII

'Twas to save thee, child, from dying,
Save my dear from burning flame,
Bitter groans and endless crying,
That thy blest Redeemer came.

XIII

May'st thou live to know and fear him,
Trust and love him all thy days;
Then go dwell for ever near him,
See his face, and sing his praise!

XIV

I could give thee thousand kisses,
Hoping what I most desire;
Not a mother's fondest wishes
Can to greater joys aspire!

Here you may use the words brother, sister, neighbour, friend, &c.

University of Virginia Library

A SLIGHT SPECIMEN OF MORAL SONGS: SUCH AS I WISH SOME HAPPY AND CONDESCENDING GENIUS WOULD UNDERTAKE FOR THE USE OF CHILDREN, AND PERFORM MUCH BETTER.

SONG 1.—The Sluggard.

I

II

III

IV

V

SONG 2.—Innocent Play.

I

II

III

SONG 3.—The Rose.

I

II

III

IV

SONG 4.—The Thief.

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

SONG 5.—The Ant or Emmet.

I

II

III

IV

SONG 6.—Good Resolutions.

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

SONG 7.—A Summer Evening.

I

II

A Cradle Hymn.

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV