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And I made a rural pen,
And I stain'd the water clear,
2. THE LAMB.
LITTLE lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little lamb, who made thee?
Little lamb, I'll tell thee;
Little lamb, I'll tell thee.
Little lamb, God bless thee,
3. THE CHILDREN.
BEAUTIFUL the children's faces !
Spite of all that mars and sears :
Steeping all my soul with tears.
Eloquent the children's faces
Poverty's lean look, which saith, Save us ! save us! woe surrounds us ; Little knowledge sore confounds us ;
Life is but a lingering death!
Give us light amid our darkness;
Let us know the good from ill; Hate us not for all our blindness; Love us, lead us, show us kindness You can make us what
We are willing; we are ready;
We would learn, if you would teach ; We have hearts that yearn towards duty i We have minds alive to beauty;
Souls that any heights can reach !
Raise us by your Christian knowledge :
Consecrate to man our powers ;
We small be what you will make us :
Make us wise, and make us good! Make us strong for time of trial; Teach us temperance, self-denial,
Patience, kindness, fortitude!
See you not our willing hearts ?
And we all will do our parts.
Every day our ranks increase;
Combating for love and peace !
They.can ne'er be ours again :
Make us worthy to be MEN! Send us to our weeping mothers,
Angel-stamped in heart and brow! We may
be our fathers' teachers : We may be the mightiest preachers,
In the day that dawneth now!
inmost soul was stirred;
heart was bowed with sadness When a cry, like summer's gladness, Said, “ The children's prayer is heard !”.
THE SANDS OF DEE.
4. THE SANDS OF DEE.
“O, MARY, go and cail the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee;"
And all alone went she.
The western tide.crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see.
And never home came she.
“Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair
A tress of golden hair,
A drowned maiden's hair,
Above the nets at sea ?
Among the stakes on Dee.”
They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel, crawling foam,
The cruel, hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea : But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home, Across the sands of Dee.
5. THE MORNING-GLORY.
We wreathed about our darling's head the morning-glory bright,
So always from that happy time we called her by their name,
But not so beautiful they rear their airy cups of blue,
dew; And not so close their tendrils fine round their supports are thrown, As those dear arms, whose outstretch'd plea clasped all hearts
to her own.
We used to think how she had come, even as comes the flower,
We never could have thought, O God, that she must wither up,
The morning-glory's blossoming will soon be coming round,
0, earth, in vain our aching eyes stretch over thy green plain!
MARIA W. LOWELL.