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TO MY GODCHILD, ALICE.

TO MY GODCHILD, ALICE.

ALICE, Alice, little Alice
My new christened baby Alice,
Can there ever rhymes be found
To express my wishes for thee
In a silvery flowing, worthy

Of that silver sound?
Bonnie Alice, Lady Alice,

Sure, this sweetest name must be
A true omen to thee, Alice,
Of a life's long melody.

Alice, Alice, little Alice,
May'st thou prove a golden chalice,
Filled with holiness like wine;
With rich blessings running o'er,
Yet replenished evermore

From a fount Divine:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,

When this future comes to thee,
In thy young life's brimming chalice
Keep some drops of balm for me!

Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou grow a goodly palace,

Fitly framed from roof to floors,
Pure unto the inmost centre,
While high thoughts like angels enter

PEASANT CHILDREN.

At the open doors:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this beauteous sight I see,
In thy woman-heart's wide palace
Keep one nook of love for me.

Alice, Alice, little Alice,-
Sure the verse halts out of malice

To the thoughts it feebly bears,
And thy name's soft echoes, ranging
From quaint rhyme to rhyme, are changing
Into silent prayers.

God be with thee, little Alice,

Of His bounteousness may He Fill the chalice, build the palace, Here, unto eternity!

PEASANT CHILDREN.

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MISS MULOCH.

EVERYWHERE, everywhere,

Like the butterfly's silver wings,
That are seen by all in the summer air,

We meet with these beautiful things!
And the low, sweet lisp of the baby child
By a thousand hills is heard,

And the voice of the young heart's laughter, wild As the voice of a singing bird!

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PEASANT CHILDREN.

The cradle rocks in the peasant's cot,
As it rocks in the noble's hall,
And the brightest gift in the loftiest lot
Is a gift that is given to all;
For the sunny light of childhood's eyes
Is a boon like the common air,
And like the sunshine of the skies,
It falleth everywhere!

They tell us that old Earth no more
By angel feet is trod,

They bring not now as they brought of yore
The oracles of God.

O, each of these young human flowers
God's own high message bears,
And we are walking all our hours
With "angels unawares"!

By stifling street and breezy hill
We meet their spirit mirth;

That such bright shapes should linger till
They take the stains of earth!

O, play not those a blessed part
To whom the boon is given

To leave their errand with the heart,
And straight return to heaven!

MARY HOWITT.

THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER.

THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER.

BEAUTIFUL the children's faces!

Spite of all that mars and sears: To my inmost heart appealing; Calling forth love's tenderest feeling: Steeping all my soul with tears.

Eloquent the children's faces

Poverty's lean look, which saith, Save us! save us! woe surrounds us; Little knowledge sore confounds us; Life is but a lingering death.

Give us light amid our darkness;

Let us know the good from ill; Hate us not for all our blindness; Love us, lead us, show us kindness,

You can make us what you will.

We are willing; we are ready;

We would learn if you would teach; We have hearts that yearn towards duty; We have minds alive to beauty;

Souls that any height can reach.

Raise us by your Christian knowledge:
Consecrate to man our powers;
Let us take our proper station;

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THE CHILDREN'S PRAYER.

We, the rising generation,
Let us stamp the age as urs.

We shall be what you will make us;
Make us wise, and make us good:
Make us strong in time of trial;
Teach us temperance, self-denial,

Patience, kindness, fortitude!

Look into our childish faces;

See ye not our willing hearts?
Only love us, only lead us ;
Only let us know you need us,
And we all will do our parts.

--

We are thousands

many thousands!
Every day our ranks increase;
Let us march beneath your banner,
We, the legion of true honor,
Combating for love and peace!

Train us! try us! days slide onward,
They can ne'er be ours again:
Save us, save! from our undoing!
Save from ignorance and ruin ;

Make us worthy to be MEN!

Send us to our weeping mothers,
Angel-stamped in heart and brow;
We may be our father's teachers: