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| The original illustration of an magnificent angel. |
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| The original drawing by Sir E. J. Poynter. |
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| Lovely shaded drawing of Solomon carrying the doors of the city gates on his back. |
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And forgive us our Trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.
WHEN thou art kneeling- down at night,
Beside thy mother's knee to pray,
And thinking over all thy sins,
Done through the busy day ;
Then call to mind thy brother's wrong,
To strife by angry passions driven,
And in thy heart forgive him all,
As thou would'st be forgiven.
Go, throw thy little arms around
His neck, and kiss him tenderly,
Nor turn away with pouting lip,
And sullen tearful eye.
Thou hast sinned more against thy GOD,
Than ever brother sinned to thee ;
If He should turn away His face,
How wretched would'st thou be.
Dost thou remember when thy LORD
Hung on His cruel Cross so long,
How in His agony He pray'd
For those that did Him wrong?
They nailed His hands, they pierced His feet,
Their angry hearts no pity knew,
"FATHER, forgive them," was His cry,
"They know not what they do."
Go, seek thy little brother's side,
And press to his thy rosy cheek,
And whisper the forgiveness free
He is too proud to seek.
Then as the brightest ray from heaven
Doth on the glittering dewdrop fall,
Thy penitence shall be received,
And GOD forgive thee all.
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Thy will be done, in Earth as it is in Heaven
THE Angels stand around Thy Throne,
And wait Thy bidding every one,
As stars around the full bright moon,
Or clouds beneath the setting sun.
Fair creatures, beautiful and bright,
They do the will of GOD on high,
His ministers to us on earth,
Unseen their white wings gliding by.
And children, too, may do GOD'S will,
Each in his lowly earthly place ;
For CHRIST hath said, " Our Angels bright
Always behold the FATHER'S Face."
LORD, when we say, " Thy will be done,"
May heart to lip be ever true:
O ! give us grace to serve Thee here,
As gladly as the Angels do.
Like Him, the lowly Child, Who dwelt
Where gleams the Galilean sea,
Whose meat it was to do Thy will,
Our Guide, our Trust, our Pattern, He.
And if Thou send us pain or grief,
If loss or anguish e'er befall,
Still teach us, though with quivering lip,
To say, "Thy will be done in all."
Thus did our LORD in anguish pray,
Saying, " Not My will, LORD, but Thine;"
So kneel we at our FATHER'S Feet,
And all our wills to Him resign.
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I LOVE the little snowdrop flower,
The first in all the year,
Without a stain upon its leaf,
So snowy white and clear.
I love a little modest child,
That speaketh quietly,
That blushes up to its blue eyes,
And hardly answers me.
I sometimes think the Church's Saints
Are flowers so fair and bright
And that her little children are
Her snowdrops sweet and white
For pure of heart, and innocent,
And teachable, and mild,
And modest in its ways and words,
Should be a Christian child.
I do not like a loud rough tone,
A look too boldly set,
A greedy hand outstretched to seize
Whatever it can get.
I'd rather meet with downcast eyes,
Sweet voices low and faint,
For gentleness and modesty
Become a little Saint.