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A sudden pain was sent to take
The smiling babe away ; How did its little bosom shake,
As in a fit it lay!
Its little heart was quickly stopped,
And in the earth so cold
And covered up with mould.
Dear little children, who may
read This mournful story through, Remember, death may come with speed,
And also summon you.
SPRING is coming ! spring is coming !
Little children look around
Turn your eyes to earth and heaven,
WHO TAUGHT THEM?
Who taught the bird to build her nest
Of softest wool and hay and moss ; Who taught her how to weave it best ;
And lay the tiny twigs across ?
Who taught the busy bee to fly,
Amongst the sweetest herbs and flowers, And lay her store of honey by,
Providing food for winter hours.?
Who taught the little ant the way,
Her narrow cell so well to bore, And through the pleasant summer day,
To gather up her winter store?
'Twas God who taught them all the way,
And gave these little creatures skill; And teaches children when they pray,
To know and do his heavenly will.
LITTLE children can you say
tell me who was born Early on the Christmas morn ?
I hope you will at once reply
This day is joyful upon earth
Christ is our Saviour, and we know,
This is the birthday of our King,
“Gentle pilgrim, tell me why
“ The road to heaven I sorrowing seek
If thou canst inform me, speak.” “Keep your right hand path with care, Though crags obstruct, and brambles tear; You just discern a narrow track,Enter there and turn not back."
"Say where that pleasant pathway leads, Winding down yon flowery meads ? Song and dance the way beguiles,
Every face is dressed in smiles." “Shun with care that flowery way; 'Twill lead thee, pilgrim, far astray."
“Guide or counsel do I need ?" “Pilgrim, he who runs may read."
“Is the way that I must keep
Crossed by waters wide and deep ?” “Did it lead through flood and fire Thou must not stop—thou must not tire.”