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Art thou beautiful Behold BIRD'S NEST blessings blossoms breast bright brook busy bee butterfly condescend daisies dear mamma delight earth Ellen fear flower gentle give green happy head hear heard heart heaven holy humble HYMN idle Jesus loves kind kindly kiss lamb lily little bird little child little children little girl Little maiden little Mary little worm live look Lord loves a little meek mild mind morning naughty never night NOSEGAY o'er pain play Playmates pleasant poor posies praise pray buy prayer pretty pretty thing rest rose Sabbath SABBATH SCHOOL Saviour shed shines sing sister sleep song songs of praise soul spring stars taught teach tears tease my mother tell thank thee thing thought to-day told a lie tree Twas Twinkle violets watched Whene'er wings winter
Page 60 - All praise to Thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light ; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, Beneath Thine own almighty wings. 2. Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son, The ill that I this day have done ; That with the world, myself, and Thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. 3. Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I may Rise glorious at the awful day.
Page 122 - Down in a green and shady bed A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head, As if to hide from view. And yet it was a lovely flower, Its colors bright and fair!
Page 50 - HOW doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower...
Page 59 - AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run ; Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise To pay thy morning sacrifice.
Page 20 - Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went, The lamb was sure to go.
Page 62 - Not more than others I deserve, Yet God hath given me more ; For I have food while others starve, Or beg from door to door.
Page 61 - HEN daily I kneel down to pray, As I am taught to do, God does not care for what I say, Unless I feel it too. Yet foolish thoughts my heart beguile; And when I pray or sing, I'm often thinking all the while About some other thing.
Page 50 - And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill I would be busy too: For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.