Chapter 1

COUSIN HATTY'S

HYMNS

AND

TWILIGHT STORIES.

BOSTON:

1851.

PREFACE.

Most of the simple verses which compose this volume were written for a very dear child, with no thought beyond her gratification. They are published at the request of friends, with the hope that other children may derive the same pleasure from them as the little one for whom they were first intended.

_Boston, Dec. 4, 1850._

CONTENTS.

1. THE FIRST HYMN 2. MORNING HYMN 3. EVENING HYMN 4. CROSS LOOKS 5. SELFISHNESS 6. THE CAT 7. STUDY FIRST 8. THE BABY 9. I AM HAPPY WHEN I DO RIGHT 10. THE BEGGAR GIRL 11. THE GIRL WHO WOULD NOT BE WASHED 12. THE SPIDER 13. MORNING HYMN 14. EVENING HYMN 15. THE LAUNCH 16. SUNDAY 17. THE MEDDLESOME CHILD 18. GOD SEES ME ALWAYS 19. THE ARK AND THE DOVE 20. THE BEE 21. SUNDAY 22. THE PLEASANT WORLD 23. SAMUEL 24. THE BIRD'S NEST 25. GOD LOVES US 26. MOSES 27. ANGER 28. WHAT THE BIRDS SAY 29. THE MONKEY 30. THE SHEEP IN HEAVEN 31. TWILIGHT 32. THE WRONG STORY 33. THE BALLAD 34. THE CHILD'S QUESTION 35. SUNDAY NIGHT 36. HAGAR AND ISHMAEL 37. EVENING HYMN 38. THE FIRST VIOLET 39. CHRISTMAS 40. NEW YEAR 41. EVENING HYMN 42. SOAP-BUBBLES 43. SPRING 44. SUMMER 45. AUTUMN 46. WINTER 47. "GIVE US THIS DAY OUR DAILY BREAD" 48. WILLIE IN HEAVEN 49. THE ANGELS 50. THE CHILDHOOD OF JESUS 51. THE FISHERS 52. THE RAINBOW 53. SONG FOR MAY MORNING 54. THE CHILD AND THE FLOWER-ELF 55. THE FOUR GIFTS 56. THE TWO LULLABIES

THE FIRST HYMN.

God made the bright, round sun; He made the pretty flowers; The little birds, the trees, the clouds The rain that falls in showers.

He made papa, mamma, And baby brother, too; And mother says He looks from Heaven, And sees each thing I do.

Then I must try to be Pleasant, and sweet, and mild; For the good God who made me loves A kind, obedient child.

MORNING HYMN.

Now again the yellow sun Shines upon my window-pane; Now anothor day's begun, I can laugh and play again.

I must try to-day to be Kind in all I say and do; Then will God be pleased with me, And mamma will love me too.

For she says that God above Loves to see a little child Sweet and gentle as the dove, Like the pretty lamb so mild.

EVENING HYMN.

Now the sun hath gone to rest, Stars are coming faint and dim, And the bird within his nest Sweetly sings his evening hymn.

Have I tried mamma to mind? Was I gentle in my play? Have I been a true and kind, Pleasant little girl to-day?

Then will God take care of me Kindly, through the long dark night; Bright and happy, I shall see Once again the morning light.

CROSS LOOKS.

Why, what a frightful face is this! And what has happened, sir, amiss? Come, let me wipe these tears away, And see no more cross looks to-day.

If Kate did throw your blocks about, She's very sorry, I've no doubt; And here she stands to tell you so, And build another house, I know.

No tears and crying here must be, So have a pleasant smile for me. There, that will do,--now run away, And kindly with your sister play.

I MUST NOT BE SELFISH.

When I play with little children I must very gentle be; I must always do to others As I'd have them do to me.

I must like to give and lend them, If they want my prettiest toy; More than my delight and pleasure I must love my playmate's joy.

Children who are kind and loving God above is pleased to see; Let me ever this remember, Ever sweet and pleasant be.

THE CAT.

Stop, naughty pussy! that's not fair! Jump down this minute from the chair! You've eaten my nice slice of bread. And here are only crumbs instead.

I for a minute left the room To listen to the "Buy a broom," And now I think it's quite too bad That you my luncheon should have had.

Her mother said, "My dear, if you Had done what you were told to do, And put the plate upon the shelf, You might have had the bread yourself.

"But if you have no thought nor care, And leave your luncheon on a chair, You must not blame poor pussy-cat; She knows no better, dear, than that.

"The one who left her bread about Upon the chair, while she went out,-- The one who hangs her head for shame,-- My little girl's the one to blame!"

STUDY FIRST.

No, Robbie! you can go away; I am not ready yet to play; For I must learn these words to spell, That I may say my lesson well.

How sad our dear mamma would look, To find that I had left my book! And if I disobeyed her so, My play would not be gay, I know.

I'll learn my lesson very soon, And then I'll run with you till noon; So, Robbie, you can go away, And presently I'll come and play.

THE BABY.

We've the dearest baby sister! And so small and sweet is she, That we love to stand beside her, All her cunning ways to see.

She can talk in baby language, She can laugh, and she can crow; She's the pet and she's the darling, She's the sweetest one we know.

Mother says that she will always Be a sweet and gentle child, If, in all our actions towards her, We are loving, good, and mild.

Let us, then, be kind and pleasant Ever to our little pet; Nor to thank the God who gave her, Morn and night, let us forget.

I AM HAPPY WHEN I DO RIGHT.

How glad it makes me feel at night, When sitting on my mother's knee, To hear her whisper "You've done right, And tried my gentle child to be."

But then I feel ashamed and sad If I've been cross and disobeyed, Or if my selfish way I've had When I with other children played.

So if at night I'd call to mind A day of undisturbed delight, The only way that I can find Is to be loving and do right.

THE LITTLE BEGGAR-GIRL.

I've just looked from the window To see the snow come down, And make the streets look nice and white, That lately were so brown.

I've seen a little beggar-girl Go by in all the cold; She had no shoes nor stockings on, Her dress was torn and old.

How thankful I should be to God, Who gives me clothes and food, A nice warm fire, a pleasant home, And parents kind and good!

Mamma, I'll always try to help The hungry and the poor; For those who are not warmed and fed, I pity, I am sure.

THE CHILD WHO WOULD NOT BE WASHED

"Don't wash me, pray, mamma, today," I once heard little Jennie say, "For oh! so very hard you rub, I never want to see my tub."

"O, very well," her mother said; "I'll put you back again to bed; And you must in your night-gown stay, Nor come down stairs at all to-day."

And then I heard Miss Jennie cry, And beg mamma to let her try; And say, as she had done before, That she'd so naughty be no more.

Her mother turned and left her there; She heard her step upon the stair; But in her chamber, all day long, She staid alone, for doing wrong.

She heard her sister jump and run, And longed to join her in her fun; Her brother made a snow-man high; But she upon her bed must lie.

She heard the merry sleigh-bells ring, And to the door come clattering; But Jennie could not go to ride In night-clothes by her father's side.

And glad was she, as you may guess, The next day to put on her dress; She ran and told her mother then She never would do so again.

THE SPIDER.

Don't kill the spider, little Fred, But come and stand by me, And watch him spin that slender thread, Which we can hardly see.

How patiently, now up, now down, He brings that tiny line! He never stops, but works right on, And weaves his web so fine.

You could not make a thread so small, If you should try all day; So never hurt him, dear, at all, But spare him in your play.

MORNING HYMN.

Now a new day just begun, I'll try to spend it well; That I may have, when eveningcomes, No naughty deeds to tell.

So through my life may every day Be better than the past; That God may take me, when I die, To live in heaven at last.

EVENING HYMN.

The sun has set behind the hill, The bird is sleeping in his nest; And now, when all around is still, I lay me down to welcome rest.

May the kind God, who lives above, And watches o'er us day and night, Bless us, and grant us, in His love, Again to see the morning light.

THE LAUNCH.

Come, sister Ellen, get your hat And come away with me; My boat, all rigged with mast and sail, I want you so to see!

Do you upon the landing stand, While here I'll kneel and blow, So that the little "Water-witch" Beneath the arch may go.

There! there! she's off! how fast she goes Across the river wide! I'd love to sit in her myself, And o'er the water glide.

When I'm a man I'll have a boat, And every sunny day, We'll take a long and pleasant sail, Till daylight fades away.

SUNDAY.

God made the day of rest, The holy Sabbath day, For us to think and talk of Him, And not for work or play.

I'll put away my toys Safely, the night before; And Sundays I'll be very still, Till Monday comes once more.

And then mamma will say, That, though I am so small, I yet can please the great, good God, Who takes care of us all.

I love these Sabbath days, Which God to us doth give; And may I love them more and more, Each day and year I live!

THE MEDDLESOME CHILD.

Little Lucy was left in the room once alone, Where the table was set out for tea; She looked all around, and she thought to herself That no one was there who could see.

Then she climbed on a chair and took off the top Of the sugar-bowl, shining and bright; And there were the lumps of the sugar she loved, All looking so nice and so white!

Then she said to herself, "Mamma never will know, If I take away only just one;" So she took it, and ate it;--it tasted so good, She thought, "But one more, and I've done."

But while she was reaching her hand out for more, The chair slipped away from her feet; And poor little Lucy soon wished much that she Had not taken the sugar so sweet:

For her head struck the floor, and made such a noise, That every one hastened to see; And all of them knew, by the sugar she held, How naughty Miss Lucy could be!

And no one was sorry, although her poor head Ached sadly because of her fall; For little girls never--so every one said-- Should taste or should meddle at all.

GOD SEES ME ALWAYS.

God sees me always. When I sleep, He kindly watches near; He loves the little child to keep, Who tries to please Him here.

When I'm alone He sees me too, Though no one else is by; And every naughty thing I do, He sees it from on high.

He sees me, too, when I am rude, And cry, and fret, and tease; He loves to see me when I'm good And try mamma to please.

Then, since He sees me day and night, And is so kind to me, I must do always what is right, His gentle child must be.

THE ARK AND THE DOVE.

A rain once fell upon the earth For many a day and night, And hid the flowers, the grass, the trees, The birds and beasts, from sight.

The deep waves covered all the land, And mountain-tops so high; And nothing could be seen around, But water, and the sky.

But yet there was one moving thing,-- A still and lonely ark,-- That, many a weary day and night, Sailed o'er that ocean dark.

At last, a little dove was forth From that lone vessel sent; But, wearied, to the ark again, When evening came, she bent.

Again she went, but soon returned, And in her beak was seen A little twig--an olive-branch-- With leaves of shining green.

The waters sank, and then the dove Flew from the ark once more, And came not back, but lived among The tree-tops, as before.

Then from the ark they all came forth, With songs of joy and praise; And once again the green earth smiled Beneath the sun's warm rays.

THE BEE.

Now, Ellen, stop screaming and running away, And come here and listen to me; Is it true, my dear daughter, I want you to say, That you're foolishly scared by a bee?

The bee is as frightened as you are, my dear, For he can't tell the way to get out; And as for his sting, that you never need fear, If you do not run crying about.

If you were to catch him, why, then, I dare say You'd soon feel his sharp little sting; But if you sit still at your work or your play, Be sure that no harm he will bring.

So wipe off these tears and never again Give way to so foolish a fright; For if you indulge it 't will cost you much pain And no one will want you in sight.

SUNDAY.

'T is Sunday morning, dear mamma! I do not wish to play; Last night I put my dolls and toys Safe in my box away.

I'll come and sit down by your side, While you the story tell Of the good little Joseph, whom His father loved so well.

And of the time when waters dark Covered the world around; And all but Noah in his ark, Beneath the waves were drowned.

And of the gentle dove, that forth O'er those wide waters flew, And twice, with weary wing, returned, No resting-place in view.

And how the infant Moses, too, Floated the Nile along; And how his mother made for him The basket cradle strong.

Please tell these Bible-stories then, And take me on your knee, And I'll sit still, my dear mamma, And listen quietly.

THE PLEASANT WORLD.

I love to see the sun go down Behind the western hill; I love to see the night come on, When everything is still.

I love to see the moon and stars Shine brightly in the sky; I love to see the rolling clouds Above my head so high.

I love to see the little flowers That grow up from the ground; To hear the wind blow through the trees, And make a rustling sound.

I love to see the sheep and lambs So happy in their play; I love to hear the small birds sing Sweetly, at close of day.

I love to see them _all_, because They are so bright and fair; And He who made this pleasant world Will listen to my prayer.

SAMUEL.

In Bible times so long ago, And in a far-off city, too, A mother watched her only child As he in strength and beauty grew.

And when his little tottering feet Had scarcely learned to go alone,-- Before his baby voice could speak Her name, with a sweet, joyous tone,--

She took her boy and travelled on, Away from home, for many a mile, That with a good and holy man Her darling son might live a while;

That he might learn about the God Who made the earth and sea and sky; And then she left him there and turned Back to her home, with many a sigh.

She could not place him on her knee And tell him he was very dear; And so she made a little coat And brought it to him every year.

But you, my little girl, can learn, While you are sitting close by me, Of heaven, and that kind God above, Who made in love each thing we see.

And you should thank Him every day, That you can here His goodness know; And from your pleasant, happy home, And your dear parents, need not go.

THE BIRD'S NEST.

What is Harry thinking of, Sitting on that mossy stone? All his brothers are at play; Why is he so still and lone?

He is musing earnestly; And the flutterings of the bird And its pleading, feeble chirp Fall upon his ear unheard.

Well may little Harry think! From the pear-tree's withered bough He has brought the pretty nest, Placed within his hat-crown now.

That is why he sits alone; And he hears a voice within, Louder than the Robin's note, Crying, "Harry, this is sin!"

Then put back the nest, my boy, So you will be glad and free, Nor will hasten by in shame, When you pass that withered tree.

GOD LOVES US.

"How beautiful it is, mamma, That God should love us all; That He should listen to their prayer, When little children call!

"What shall I do for him, mamma? For He's so kind to me,-- How shall I show my love to Him Who made bird, flower and tree?"

"The only thing which you can do Is this, my darling child, Be always gentle, full of love, In words and actions mild.

"Thus you will show your love to God Who is so kind to you; And you will live with Him at last In His bright heaven, too."

THE STORY OF MOSES.

"Tell me a Sunday story," A dear child said to me; And I bent down and kissed her And placed her on my knee.

"Once, long ago, in countries Far, very far away, Where the cold snow-storm never comes, And all is bright and gay,

"There lived a king, so cruel, He gave this stern command, That all the little children Must die, throughout the land.

"But still there was one mother Who kept her baby dear, And quickly hushed its crying, In silence and in fear;

"But when she could no longer Her precious baby hide, She did not like to throw him Upon the rushing tide;

"And so a little basket She made, of rushes stout, And plastered it with clay and pitch To keep the water out.

"Then in this basket-cradle She put the little child; And quietly he floated down Among the rushes wild.

"Just then the king's own daughter Came to the water's edge, And saw the basket floating Among the grass and sedge.

"She drew it from the water, And called the babe her own, And kept him till to be a man That little boy had grown.

"And when you read the Bible,-- Which you will learn to do,-- You'll see how great and good he was, And how God loved him, too."

ANGER.

"When a child is cross and angry, Never must her voice be heard; Only to herself most softly May she say this simple word,

"Lead us not into temptation;" That will angry thoughts remove, Make her calm and still and gentle, With a spirit full of love.

WHAT THE BIRDS SAY.

"I hear the birds sing, mother, Yet know not what they say; I've listened to them often Until they flew away.

"Say if their words, dear mother, To you are clear and plain, Or if, like me, you've listened At morn and night in vain."

"We don't know what they say, dear; We think they sing their hymn At early morning sunrise, Or at the twilight dim.

"When softly sings the mother, Within her downy nest, We think she's gently hushing Her little ones to rest.

"But this remember, darling, The birds are always kind; A cross or angry songster I never yet could find.

"And you may learn a lesson From their sweet notes of love; Like them be always gentle, And please the God above."

THE MONKEY.

"O Mother! here's the organ-man, And here's the monkey, too! Just see his funny gown of red, And little cap of blue!

"O look! he's on the window there! His cap is in his paw; And now he bows and makes a face; What can it all be for?

"O, now they've dropped some money in, While, quickly as he can, See! he puts on his cap, and gives The pennies to the man.

"Mamma! why don't you look at him! You have not seen at all; Just see him climbing up and down, With paws so brown and small!

"He's gone away! O, dear mamma, Why did you not come here? You never saw, in all your life, A thing one half as queer."

"I'll tell you why, my little son, I do not like to see That monkey bow and jump about; 'Tis no delight to me.

"They've had to treat him cruelly To teach him how to play; They've had to whip and punish him And take his food away.

"And that is why I do not love To see him dancing so; And if you thought of it, my boy, You'd feel with me, I know."

THE SHEEP IN HEAVEN.

"Come to the window, mother! Look out, and you will see How fast these little clouds sail on, Above our old elm tree!

"And tell me, dearest mother, Are these the sheep of heaven, That in that land are feeding, From morning until even?

"How soft and white and shining! Oh! say, dear mother, there Is everything so gentle, So lovely and so fair?"

"We cannot see them, darling, The sheep of heaven, here; And far more beautiful than this Does that bright land appear.

"Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, Nor tongue of man can tell The glories of that home above, Where all the good shall dwell."

TWILIGHT.

The happiest hour of all the day To me, is always last; When both my studies and my play, My walks and work, are past.

When round the bright warm fire we come, With hearts so light and free, And all within our happy home Are talking quietly,

Then, by my dear, kind father's side I sit, or on his knee, And then I tell him I have tried His gentle girl to be.

And then he says the little child Is loved by every one, Who has a temper sweet and mild And smiling as the sun.

Let me do always as I should, Nor vex my father dear; And let me be as glad and good As he would have me here.

THE WRONG STORY.

"My little Edward, how could you Tell me a thing that was not true? And make me feel thus grieved and sad To find I have a child so bad?

"And then, to do a deed so mean, And wish by that yourself to screen! Would you have had me blame poor Tray, And send him from the fire away?

"O! never, when you've disobeyed, Or by your mischief trouble made, Think that a wicked act is right Because you hide it from my sight.

"It will be always seen by One, Who knows each wrong that you have done; And I shall know it too, no doubt, For sin must always find you out.

"I cannot let you here to-day With me and little sisters stay; But you must go up stairs alone, Till you a better boy have grown."

THE BALLAD.

"Come hither, little brothers, And listen now to me, And I will read a story To both, while at my knee."

Then Johnnie's flag hung idly, And Charlie hushed his drum; To hear sweet Mary's story The mimic soldiers come.

"'Tis of a boy no larger, My little Charles, than you; But he had been in battle, And all its terrors knew.

"His father was a captain; He had no child beside; And while he was an infant His mother dear had died.

"And so from camp to battle, From fight to camp again, Had lived, this little hero, On many a bloody plain.

"One day, when shouts were loudest Upon the reddened field,-- When came the victor's war-cry, 'See! see! they fly! they yield!'--

"Forth then, to seek his father, He went with eager joy; But with a chance ball wounded, Low lay the fearless boy!

"The son of a brave chieftain, He made no sigh or groan; His father's hand yet tighter He clasped within his own!

"And so, when strife was ended, No more to be begun, In conquest's very moment Thus fell the chieftain's son."

Then John took out his feather, And put his flag away; And Charlie's drum was silent Until another day.

THE CHILD'S QUESTION.

"What are the flowers for, mamma, That spring up fresh and bright, And grow on every hill and plain, Where'er I turn my sight?

"How do the flowers grow, mamma? I've pulled the leaves away, And tried to see them blossom out, On many a summer's day."

"The flowers were made, my little child, That when our footsteps trod Upon the green and pleasant fields, We then might think of God.

"We may not see how they do grow, And bloom in beauty fair; We cannot tell how they can spread Their small leaves to the air: