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But, LORD, Thou already hast known

Much more of my folly than I; There is not a fault I can own,

Too little for God to descry: Yet hear me, and help me to feel

How wicked and weak I must be; And let me not try to conceal

The largest or smallest from Thee.

The year is just going away,

The moments are finishing fast; Look down in Thy mercy I pray,

To pardon the sin that is past : And as soon as another begins,

So help me to walk in thy fear, That I may not with follies and sins

So foolishly waste a new year.

JANE TAYLOR.

BEWARE.

A LITTLE theft, a small deceit,

Too often leads to more : 'Tis hard at first, but tempts the feet

As through an open door.
Just as the broadest rivers run

From small and distant springs,
The greatest crimes that men have done,

Have grown from little things.

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THE ORPHAN.

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THE ORPHAN.

My father and mother are dead,

No friend nor relation I have ; And now the cold earth is their bed,

And daisies grow over their grave.

I cast my eyes into the tomb,

The sight made me bitterly cry; I said, “And is this the dark room

Where my father and mother must lie ?

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I cast my eyes round me again,

In hopes some protection to see ; Alas! but the search was in vain,

For none had compassion on me.

I cast up my eyes to the sky,

I groaned, though I said not a word; Yet God was not deaf to my cry,

The Friend of the fatherless heard.

O yes, and He graciously smiled,

And bid me on Him to depend; He whispered, “ Fear not little child,

For I am thy Father and Friend."

I WANT TO BE AN ANGEL.

I want to be an angel,

And with the angels stand; A crown upon my forehead,

And a harp within my hand. Then, right before my Saviour,

So glorious and so bright, I'd make the sweetest music,

And praise Him day and night.

I never should be weary,

Nor ever shed a tear,
Nor ever know a sorrow,

Nor ever feel a fear.
But blessed, pure, and holy,

I'd dwell in Jesus' sight;
And with ten thousand thousand,

Praise Him both day and night.

I know I'm weak and sinful,

But Jesus will forgive; For many little children

Have gone to Heaven to live. Dear Saviour, when I languish,

And lay me down to die, O send a shining angel

To bear me to the sky.

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