2

EVENING.

THE day is past, the sun is set,

And the white stars are in the sky; While the long grass with dew is wet,

And through the air the bats now fly.

The lambs have now lain down to sleep,
The birds have long since sought their nests;
The air is still, and dark and deep,

On the hill-side the old wood rests.

Yet of the dark I have no fear,

But feel as safe as when 'tis light; For I know God is with me there,

And he will guard me through the night

For God is by me when I pray,

And when I close my eyes in sleep, I know that he will with me stay,

And will all night watch by me keep.

For He who rules the stars and sea,

Who makes the grass and trees to grow, Will look upon a child like me,

When on my knees to him I bow.

THANK you, pretty cow, that made
Pleasant milk to soak my bread,

Every day and every night,

Warm and fresh, and sweet, and white.

TWINKLE, Twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark;
He could not tell which way to go
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,

And often through my curtains peep;
For you never shut your eye
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, Twinkle, little star.

66

Piper, pipe that song again!"
So I piped-he wept to hear.

"Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;
Sing thy songs of happy cheer;"
So I sang the same again,

While he wept with joy to hear.

"Piper, sit thou down, and write
In a book, that all may read!"
So he vanished from my sight,
And I plucked a hollow reed,
And I made a rural* pen,

And I stained the water clear;
And I wrote my happy songs,
Every child may joy to hear.

A CRADLE SONG.

HUSH! the waves are rolling in,

White with foam, white with foam;

Father toils amid the din;

But baby sleeps at home.

1 rural, country.

Hush! the winds roar hoarse and deep,—
On they come, on they come!
Brother seeks the lazy sheep;
But baby sleeps at home.

Hush! the rain sweeps o'er the knowes,*
Where they roam, where they roam;
Sister goes to seek the cows;

But baby sleeps at home.

7

A LITTLE CHILD'S MORNING HYMN.

THE morning bright,

With rosy light,

Has waked me from my sleep;

Father, I own,

Thy love alone

Thy little one doth keep.

All through the day,

I humbly pray,

Be thou my guard and guide;

My sins forgive,

And let me live,

Bless'd Jesus! near Thy side.

O make thy rest

Within my breast,

Great Spirit of all grace!

Make me like Thee,

Then shall I be

Prepared to see Thy face.

* Low hills-knolls, pronounced to rhyme with "Cows."

THE VOICE OF THE GRASS.

HERE I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

By the dusty roadside,

On the sunny hillside;

Close by the noisy brook,

In every shady nook,

I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, smiling everywhere; All round the open door,

Where sit the aged poor,

Here, where the children play,
In the light and merry May,
I come creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;
In the noisy city street

My pleasant face you'll meet,

Cheering the sick at heart,

Toiling his busy part―

Silently creeping, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere;

You cannot see me coming,

Nor hear my low sweet humming;

For in the starry night,

And the glad morning light,

I come quietly, creeping everywhere.

Here I come creeping, creeping everywhere; More welcome than the flowers

In summer's pleasant hours;