"Oh, mother," he would sometimes say, "why has God made me so? What use am I? What work is mine ?" and then the tears "Nay, nay, my child, have patience still; be sure the words are true, "God has a plan for every man,' and He has one for you." The sound of war was swelling then around that fair free land, But her sons had sworn that on her soil no foeman's foot should stand; And on each height a sentry stood, with keen unwearying eyes, The cripple slept at midnight hour, but woke he knew not why, There was no sentry at his post, the place was lone and still ;Hush! hark! see, see those stealthy men just creeping round the hill! Now, cripple-boy, there's work for you; your mother's words are true. God has a plan for every man, and this is His for you. He seized the match with eager hand, he had no thought of fear, One moment and the flames burst forth: they saw it far and near; They saw it too, those baffled foes, they knew their chance was o'er, One shot they fired, and down they went back to their camp once more. And where was he, the feeble child, so weak and yet so brave? So mean, and yet so honoured, thus his native vale to save ? Alas! that shot had stretched him low, and on the grass he lay, His dauntless heart rejoicing while his life's blood ebbed away. They bore him to his home at length; there was triumph in his eye, Oh, mother, do not weep for me; I'm happy thus to die! I could not ask for longer life, for I have lived to see, God has a plan for every man,' and he had one for me!" 32 GOOD-BYE TO SUMMER. OOD-BYE, good-bye to summer! But Robin's here in coat of brown, Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! Robin sings so sweetly In the falling of the year. Bright yellow, red, and orange, The trees are Indian princes,1 But soon they'll turn to ghosts; 1 The bright colour of the leaves is like royal robcs. Robin, Robin Redbreast, And what will this poor Robin do, The wheatstack for the mouse, The branches plumed with snow- And a crumb of bread for Robin, 33 REASONS FOR MIRTH. THE sun is careering in glory and might, 'Mid the deep blue sky and the clouds so bright; The billow is tossing its foam on high, And the summer breezes go lightly by; The air and the water dance, glitter, and play- 36 - 34 LITTLE BIRD! LITTLE BIRD! ITTLE Bird! little bird! come to me! 66 Thanks, little maiden, for all thy care, But I dearly love the clear, cool air, And my snug little nest in the old oak tree;" "Ah, no, little maiden! God guides me 35 THE SHEPHERD'S DOG. WAS in the flowery month of June, With purple heath and golden whin, When balmy dews fall soft and sweet, Until the sun, with all his heat, Amid the Grampian mountains1 dun, The sheep lay scattered far and wide; The father and his darling boy Lay dreaming on the hill, Above them all was light and joy; Around them, all was still. When, hark! a low and distant bleat 1 In Scotland, between Perthshire and Inverness-shiro. |