Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
Hymns, Songs, and Fables, for Young People
Published by Good Press, 2022
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4057664585394
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PREFACE
TO THE PRESENT EDITION.
HYMNS.
"SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME."
HYMN.
HYMN FOR A LITTLE BOY.
"THE LORD IS MY STRENGTH."
HYMN.
"THY WILL BE DONE."
SABBATH DAY.
THE GOOD BOY'S HYMN ON GOING TO BED.
GOD IS GOOD.
EVENING.
ROBINSON CRUSOE'S HYMN.
HYMN.
ON PRAYER.
"THE SPIRIT GIVETH LIFE."
WE NEVER PART FROM THEE.
"I WILL ARISE AND GO TO MY FATHER."
EVENING HYMN.
AUTUMN.
THE LORD'S DAY.
THE MINISTRY OF PAIN.
"BY FAITH YE ARE SAVED."
EVENING PRAYER.
EVENING HYMN.
LINES WRITTEN AT MIDNIGHT.
"HOPE IN GOD."
FAILURE AND SUCCESS.
SONGS.
THE LITTLE SPRING.
THE LITTLE BOY'S MAY-DAY SONG.
GUESS WHAT I HAVE HEARD.
SPRING.
THE LITTLE BOY'S GOOD-NIGHT.
THE SHEPHERD'S SABBATH-SONG.
TO SPRING.
HER VOYAGE IS AT AN END.
CHARLEY AND HIS FATHER.
REMEMBER THE SLAVE.
HOME-SICKNESS.
HAPPINESS.
CHILDREN IN SLAVERY.
TO GOOD RESOLUTIONS.
THANKS FOR A PLEASANT DAY.
TO A BUTTERFLY.
TO NATURE.
ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG COMPANION.
THE SABBATH IS HERE.
THE CHILD AT HER MOTHER'S GRAVE.
CHILD'S SONG.
TO A FOUNTAIN.
SONG FOR AN INFANT SCHOOL.
THE SUMMER.
TO A BEAUTIFUL GIRL.
THE LITTLE SLAVE'S WISH.
FABLES.
THE HONEST BIRD.
SOLILOQUY
THE PIN, NEEDLE, AND SCISSORS.
LEARNED FRED.
LITTLE ROLAND.
BILLY RABBIT TO MARY.
THE OLD AND NEW SHOES.
THE MONKEYS AND THE BEARS.
THE END.
A CATALOGUE OF BOOKS
PUBLISHED BY
CROSBY & NICHOLS,
111 WASHINGTON STREET,
BOSTON.
A LIST OF BOOKS
WM. CROSBY & H.P. NICHOLS,
PREFACE
TO THE PRESENT EDITION.
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The present edition of Hymns, Songs, and Fables, has been greatly enlarged, by poems either not before printed, or that have had a very limited circulation, and also by a number of translations from the German. If they should have the good fortune to add to the innocent pleasure of the young, and deserve to become associated in their minds with the pure and hallowed recollections of home, and happy early days, my highest ambition with regard to them be entirely gratified.
Eliza Lee Follen.
Cambridge, November 19, 1846.
HYMNS.
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"SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME."
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"Let little children come to me,"—
This is what the Saviour said;
Little children, come and see
Where these gracious words are read.
Often on these pages look,—
Of the love of God they tell;
'Tis indeed a holy book,—
Learn to read and love it well.
Thus you hear the Saviour speak,—
"Come ye all and learn of me";
He was gentle, lowly, meek,—
So should all his followers be.
When our Saviour from above,
From his Father did descend,
He took them in his arms of love,
And children knew him for their friend.
All little children Jesus blessed,—
Blessed in innocence they are;
Little children he caressed;
Praise him in your infant prayer.
HYMN.
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Praise to God! O let us raise
From our hearts a song of praise!
Of that goodness let us sing
Whence our lives and blessings spring.
Praise to him who made the light,
Praise to him who gave us sight,
Praise to him who formed the ear;
Will he not his children hear?
Praise him for our happy hours,
Praise him for our varied powers,
For these thoughts that rise above,
For these hearts he made for love,
For the voice he placed within,
Bearing witness when we sin;
Praise to him whose tender care
Keeps this watchful guardian there.
Praise his mercy, that did send
Jesus for our guide and friend;
Praise him, every heart and voice,
Him who makes all worlds rejoice.
HYMN FOR A LITTLE BOY.
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"What, mother, makes it seem to me,
When I am all alone,
As if some one could hear and see,
And all my thoughts were known?
"Sometimes it makes me very glad,
And dance and sing with joy;
Sometimes it makes me very sad,
And frights your little boy.
"O, tell me, mother, tell me why;
For I have never known
Why 'tis I laugh, or why I cry,
When I am all alone."
"My child, you never are alone;
There is a watchful eye
To which your very thoughts are known;
'Tis God is ever nigh.
"He made your little heart for joy,
He tunes your happy song;
O, then, my little timid boy,
Fear only doing wrong.
"For he who makes your heart so glad,
Who bids the good be gay,
With the same love will make it sad,
Whene'er you disobey.
"He is our Father, and he hears
Your weakest, faintest prayer;
He wipes away an infant's tears,
And children are his care."
"THE LORD IS MY STRENGTH."
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Almighty Father! I am weak,
But thou wilt strengthen me,
If from my heart I humbly seek
For help and light from thee.
When I am tempted to do wrong,
Then, Father, pity me,
And make my failing virtue strong;
Help me to think of thee!
Let Christian courage guard my youth;
That courage give to me
Which ever speaks and acts the truth,
And puts its trust in thee.
HYMN.
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Will God, who made the earth and sea,
The night, and shining day,
Regard a little child like me,
And listen when I pray?
If I am hungry, poor, and cold,
Then will he hear my cry?
And when I shall be sick and old,
O, then will God be nigh?
Yes; in his holy word we read
Of his unfailing love;
And when his mercy most we need,
His mercy he will prove.
To those who seek him, he is near;
He looks upon the heart,
And from the humble and sincere
He never will depart.
He sees our thoughts, our wishes knows,
He hears our faintest prayer;
Where'er the faithful Christian goes,
He finds his Father there.
Obedient children need not fear;
God is a faithful friend,
And when no other help is near,
He will deliverance send.
Then fear not hunger, cold, or pain,
But fear to disobey
That power which does your life sustain,
And guards you every day.
"THY WILL BE DONE."
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How sweet to be allowed to pray
To God, the Holy One,
With filial love and trust to say,—
"Father, thy will be done!"
We in these sacred words can find
A cure for every ill;
They calm and soothe the troubled mind,
And bid all care be still.
O, let that will, which gave me breath
And an immortal soul,
In joy or grief, in life or death,
My every wish control!
O, could my heart thus ever pray,
Thus imitate thy Son!
Teach me, O God, with truth to say,—
"Thy will, not mine, be done!"
SABBATH DAY.
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How sweet upon this sacred day,
The best of all the seven,
To cast our earthly thoughts away,
And think of God and heaven!
How sweet to be allowed to pray
Our sins may be forgiven;
With filial confidence to say,
"Father, who art in heaven"!
With humble hope to bend the knee,
And, free from folly's leaven,
Confess that we have strayed from thee,
Thou righteous Judge in heaven!
And if to make all sin depart
In vain the will has striven,
He who regards the inmost heart
Will send his grace from heaven.
If from the bosom that is dear
By cold unkindness driven,
The heart that knows no refuge here
Shall find a friend in heaven.
Then hail, thou sacred, blessed day,
The best of all the seven,
When hearts unite their vows to pay
Of gratitude to Heaven.
THE GOOD BOY'S HYMN ON GOING TO BED.
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How sweet to lay my weary head
Upon my quiet little bed,
And feel assured, that all day long
I have not knowingly done wrong!
How sweet to hear my mother say,
"You have been very good to-day!"
How sweet to see my father's joy
When he can say, "My dear, good boy!"
How sweet it is my thoughts to send
To many a dear-loved distant friend,
And feel, if they my heart could see,
How very happy they would be!
How sweet to think that He whose love
Made all these shining worlds above
My pure and happy heart can see,
And loves a little boy like me.
GOD IS GOOD.
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Thou art good! Each perfumed flower,
Waving fields, the dark green wood,
The insect fluttering for an hour,—
All things proclaim that God is good.
I hear it in each breath of wind;
The hills that have for ages stood,
And clouds with gold and silver lined,
All still repeat that God is good.
Each little rill, that many a year
Has the same verdant path pursued,
And every bird, in accents clear,
Joins in the song that God is good.
The restless sea, with haughty roar,
Calms each wild wave and billow rude,
Retreats submissive from the shore,
And swells the chorus, "God is good."
The countless hosts of twinkling stars,
That sing his praise with light renewed;
The rising sun each day declares,
In rays of glory, God is good.
The moon, that walks in brightness, says,
That God is good! and man, endued
With power to speak his Maker's praise,
Should still repeat that God is good.
EVENING.
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