SONGS FOR THE

I love to see the playful lambs,
So innocent and gay ;
I love the faithful, watchful dog,
Who guards them night and day.
I love to think of Him who made
These pleasant things for me ;
Who gave me life, and health, and strength,
And eyes that I might see.
I love the holy Sabbath-day,
So peaceful, calm, and still ;
And Oh, I love to go to church,
And learn my Maker’s will.

    
    
   
   
   
 
    
    
    
  

 

  
    
    
 
    
 
    
 
   
   
    
 
    

THE FLOWERS.
How lovely are the flowers,
That in the valley smile ;
They seem like forms of angels,
Pure, and free from guile.

But one thing mars their beauty—
It does not always last ;

They droop, and fade, and wither,
Long ere the summer’s past.

And I am like the flower
That blooms in fragrant May,
When days of sickness find me,
Then I shall fade away.

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