SONGS FOR THE

Nay, fear not, fear not, little ones ;
There is in heaven an Kye |
That looks with yearning fondness down
On all the paths you try.

 

 
 

Hell keep you when the storm is wild,
And when the flood is near ;

O trust him, trust him as a child,
And you have naught to fear.

  

 

 

 

THE BROKEN CHAIR.
O dear, O dear, what shall Ido? .
I’ve broke my chair, and tumbled through :
Mother will say, You careless boy,
From morn till night, ’t is all, destroy.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sure I did not mean to break
The chair she purchased for my sake ;
I felt like jumping then, and so

It broke, and then I tumbled through.

I am afraid to meet her eye;
Shell look so sorry, I shall ery :
O dear, O dear, what shall 1 do?
I wish I had not tumbled through.

I'll tell you what—now right away
I'll go and tell her ’t was in play ;
And I’m so sorry for it now,

I know I shall more careful grow.