Songs for the Little Ones at Home

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American Tract Society, 1852 - 288 psl.

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141 psl. - Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell.
142 psl. - Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side.
269 psl. - Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form. • The flames rolled on — he would not go, Without his father's word ; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard.
211 psl. - Let my sins be all forgiven, Bless the friends I love so well ; Take me when I die to heaven, Happy there with Thee to dwell.
271 psl. - Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came ; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame ; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear ; — They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
109 psl. - In works of labour, or of skill, I would be busy too ; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.
272 psl. - What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine? The wealth of seas, the spoils of war? — They sought a faith's pure shrine. Ay, call it holy ground, — The soil where first they trod! They have left unstained what there they found — Freedom to worship God ! Felicia Hemans.
269 psl. - THE boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but he had fled ; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm ; A creature of heroic blood, A proud though childlike form. The...
258 psl. - To do to others as I would That they should -do to me ; Will make me honest, kind and good As children ought to be.
142 psl. - My kerchief there I hem ; And there upon the ground I sit — I sit and sing to them. "And often, after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. " The first that died was little Jane ; In bed she moaning lay Till God released her of her pain, And then she went away.

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