Various - Devotional Poetry for the Children

Suppose the little breezes
Upon a summer’s day,
Should think themselves too small to cool
The traveler on his way:
Who would not miss the smallest
And softest ones that blow,
And think they made a great mistake
If they were talking so?

How many deeds of kindness
A little child may do,
Although it has so little strength,
And little wisdom, too.
It wants a loving spirit,
Much more than strength, to prove,
How many things a child may do
For others by his love.

How radiant the evening skies!
Broad wing of blue in heaven unfurled,
God watching with unwearied eyes
The welfare of a sleeping world.

He rolls the sun to its decline,
And speeds it on to realms afar,
To let the modest glowworm shine,
And men behold the evening star.

He lights the wild flower in the wood,
He rocks the sparrow in her nest,
He guides the angels on their road,
That come to guard us while we rest

When blows the bee his tiny horn,
To wake the sisterhood of flowers,
He kindles with His smile the morn,
To bless with light the winged hours.

O God! look down with loving eyes
Upon Thy children slumbering here,
Beneath this tent of starry skies,
For heaven is nigh, and Thou art near.

Turn not from him, who asks of thee
A portion of thy store;
Poor though in earthly goods thou be,
Thou yet canst give, – what’s more,

The balm of comfort thou canst pour
Into his grieving mind,
Who oft is turned from wealth’s proud door,
With many a word unkind.

Does any from the false world find
Naught but reproach and scorn?
Does any, stung by words unkind,
Wish that he ne’er was born?

Do thou raise up his drooping heart,
Restore his wounded mind;
Though naught of wealth thou canst impart,
Yet still thou mayest be kind.

And oft again thy words shall wing
Backward their course to thee,
And in thy breast will prove a spring
Of pure felicity.

How do the leaves grow,
In spring, upon their stems?
Oh! the sap swells up with a drop for all,
And that is life to them.

What do the leaves do
Through the long summer hours,
They make a home for the wandering birds,
And shelter the wild flowers.

How do the leaves fade
Beneath the autumn blast?
Oh! they fairer grow before they die,
Their brightest is their last.

We, too, are like leaves,
O children! weak and small;
God knows each leaf of the forest shade:
He knows us, each and all.

Never a leaf falls
Until its part is done;
God gives us grace, like sap, and then
Some work to every one.

We, too, must grow old,
Beneath the autumn sky;
But lovelier and brighter our lives may grow,
Like leaves before they die.

Brighter with kind deeds,
With love to others given;
Till the leaf falls off from the autumn tree,
And the spirit is in heaven.

Thou’rt up betimes, my little bird,
And out this morning early,
For still the tender bud is closed,
And still the grass is pearly.

Why rise so soon, thou little bird,
Thy soft, warm nest forsaking?
To brave the dull, cold morning sky,
While day is scarcely breaking?

Ah! thou art wise, thou little bird,
For fast the hours are flying;
And this young day, but dawning now,
Will soon, alas! be dying.

I’ll learn of thee, thou little bird,
And slothful habits scorning,
No longer sleep youth’s dawn away,
Nor waste life’s precious morning.

Father, – an orphan’s prayer receive,
And listen to my plaintive cry:
Thou only canst my wants relieve,
Who art my Father in the sky.

I have no father here below,
No mother kind to wipe my tears, —
These tender names I never know,
To soothe my grief and quell my fears.

But Thou wilt be my parent, – nigh
In every hour of deep distress,
And listen to an orphan’s sigh,
And soothe the anguish of my breast.

For Thou hast promised all I need,
More than a father’s, mother’s care:
Thou wilt the hungry orphan feed,
And always listen to my prayer.

Dear Lord, another day has come,
And through the hours of night,
In a good bed and quiet home
I’ve slept till morning light.

Then let me give Thee thanks and praise,
For Thou art very good;
Oh, teach my little heart to raise
The prayer that children should.

Keep me this day from faults and sin,
And make me good and mild;
Thy Holy Spirit place within,
Grant grace unto a child.

Help me obey my parents dear,
For they are very kind;
And when the hour of rest draws near,
Another prayer I’ll find.

The day is gone, – the silent night
Invites me to my peaceful bed;
But, Lord, I know that it is right
To thank Thee, ere I rest my head.

For my good meals and pleasant hours,
That I have had this present day,
Let me exert my infant powers
To praise Thee, nor forget to pray.

Thou art most good. I can’t tell all
That Thou hast ever done for me;
My Shepherd, now on Thee I call,
From dangers still preserve me free.

If I’ve been naughty on this day,
Oh! make me sorry for my fault;
Do Thou forgive, and teach the way
To follow Jesus as I ought.

And now I’ll lay me down to rest,
Myself, – my friends, – all safely keep;
May Thy great name be ever blest,
Both when we wake, and when we sleep.

A moment too late, my beautiful bird, —
A moment too late are you now,
The wind has your soft, downy nest disturbed, —
The nest that you hung on the bough.
A moment too late, – that string in your bill
Would have fastened it firmly and strong;
But see, there it goes rolling over the hill!
Oh! you tarried a moment too long.