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Birds in their little nests agree;
And 'tis a shameful sight,

When children of one family

Fall out, and chide, and fight.

Hard names at first, and threatening words

That are but noisy breath,

May grow to clubs and naked swords,

To murder and to death.

Pardon, O Lord, our childish rage,

Our little brawls remove;

That, as we grow to riper age,
Our hearts may all be love.

THE LITTLE PILGRIM.

Now that my journey's just begun,

My course so little trod,

I'll stay, before I further run,
And give myself to God.

And, lest I should be ever led
Through sinful paths to stray,
I would at once begin to tread
In wisdom's pleasant way.

What sorrows may my steps attend, I cannot now foretel;

But if the Lord will be my friend, I know that all is well.

If all my earthly friends should die,
And leave me mourning here;
Since God regards the orphan's cry,
O what have I to fear?

If I am rich, He'll guard my heart,
Temptation to withstand;

And make me willing to impart
The bounties of his hand.

If I am poor, He can supply,
Who has my table spread;

Who feeds the ravens when they cry, And fills his poor with bread.

And, Lord, whatever grief or ill

For me may be in store,

Make me submissive to thy will,

And I will ask no more.

Attend me through my youthful way,

Whatever be my lot;

And when I'm feeble, old, and gray, O Lord, forsake me not!

Then still, as seasons hasten by,
I will for heaven prepare;

That God may take me when I die,
To dwell for ever there.

THE ORPHAN CHILD.

Upon my father's new-closed grave
Deep lay the winter's snow;

Green, now,

the grass waves o'er his head,

And tall the tomb weeds grow.

Along life's road no parent's hand

My homeless footsteps led;

No mother's arm in sickness soothed

And raised my throbbing head.

But other hearts, Lord, thou hast warmed

With tenderness benign;

And, in the stranger's eyes, I mark

The tear of pity shine.

The stranger's hand by thee is moved

To be the orphan's stay ;

And, better far, the stranger's voice

Hath taught me how to pray.

Thou putt'st a new song in our mouths,
A song of praise and joy;
O may we not our lips alone,
But hearts, in praise employ !

To him, who little children took,
And in his bosom held,

And, blessing them with looks of love,
Their rising fears dispelled ;-

To him, while flowers bloom on the bank, Or lambs sport on the lea;

While larks with morning hymns ascend, Or birds chant on the tree;—

To him, let every creature join
In prayer, and thanks, and praise;
Infants, their little anthems lisp;-
Age, hallelujahs raise !

THOU, GOD, SEEST ME.

Among the deepest shades of night
Can there be one who sees my way?
Yes;-God is like a shining light,
That turns the darkness into day.

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