His heart was full, and he could not speak, AUNT MARY. KIND WORDS. LITTLE word in kindness spoken, A motion or a tear, May heal a spirit broken, And make a friend sincere. A word, a look, has crushed to earth Which had a smile but owned its birth, . Then deem it not an idle thing A kindly word to speak, The face you wear, the smiles you bring May soothe a heart or break. ΑΝΟΝ. SPEAK GENTLY. PEAK gently! it is better far Speak gently! let not harsh words mar 66 I will be Good To-day. Speak gently to the aged one; Grieve not the care-worn heart; The sands of life are nearly run: Let such in peace depart. Speak gently, kindly, to the poor, Speak gently! He who gave his life, Speak gently! 'tis a little thing, ANON. I WILL BE GOOD TO-DAY. WILL be good, dear mother," I heard a sweet child say; "I will be good; now watch me, I will be good all day." She lifted up her bright young eyes, With a soft and pleasing smile; Then a mother's kiss was on her lips, So pure and free from guile. 303 And when night came, that little one Said, in a soft and whispering tone: Oh, many, many bitter tears, 'Twould save us, did we say, Like that dear child, with earnest heart : "I will be good to-day." AUNT EFFIE'S RHYMES. I WANT TO BE AN ANGEL. WANT to be an angel, And with the angels stand; And praise him day and night. I never should be weary, Nor ever know a sorrow, But, blessed, pure, and holy, And with ten thousand thousand, Praise him both day and night. The Pure in Heart. I know I'm weak and sinful, But Jesus will forgive; Have gone to heaven to live. To bear me to the sky! Oh, there I'll be an angel, 305 And praise him day and night! THE PURE IN HEART. LEST are the pure in heart, For they shall see our God, The secret of the Lord is theirs, Their soul is his abode. Still to the lowly soul He doth himself impart, And for his temple and his throne Selects the pure in heart. KEBLE. LITTLE PILGRIMS. HO are they, whose little feet, Pacing life's dark journey through, Now have reached that heavenly seat They had ever kept in view?" "I from Greenland's frozen land;" "I from India's sultry plain ;" "I from Afric's barren sand;" "I from islands of the main." All our earthly journey past, Here together meet at last, At the portals of the sky; Lift your heads, ye golden gates! And let the little travellers in. J. EDMESTON. LITTLE THINGS. MIS little acts of good or ill, will. That make our vast account. No one, though great, does all God's Small drops the caves of ocean fill; And sands compose the mount. H. F. GOULD. |