Chapter II: Part 2

Come little earth-star, where the babies sleep;
Fly up the blue path, and time with us keep.
O spread your cloud-wings, bright, tiny star,
Come towards the Pleiades shining afar!

Come, little earth-star, where the babies dream,
Rocked in the cradles soft, ’neath starry gleam.
Swung in the hammocks bright, ’neath summer trees,
Where the breath of roses floats on the breeze.

Come, little earth-star, where the babies laugh,
Drinking the sweet milk God hath made to quaff.
Bathed in the sunshine ever fresh and new,
Tell them we are watching up in the blue.

Tell them we’re shining still ’mid the light;
Glitt’ring and twinkling all through the night.
Gleaming at morn ’tween rose-clouds aglow;
Peering through the dark storm laden with snow.

Wee, precious earth-world, though so very small,
All the big stars know thee; thou art watched by all.
No star so favored as thyself hath been,
Where the King of Glory died to save from sin.

Brightest of sunbeam kiss thy ripening food.
Countless pure angels guard thy baby brood.
When we sing Love’s anthem, shouting it afar,
There’s a tender chorus sung for thee, O star!

Mighty is the arm that guideth on the way!
Planets keep their orbits while the comets play.
And you never jostle with your baby-brood,
While they learn the praises of the Loving God.

Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, little earth-world,
Flying towards the Pleiades bright unfurled;
While we sing Love’s anthem, shouting it afar;
And a tender chorus swells for thee, O star!

ROSES

Sweet roses! and they bloomed as pure
As shining cloud and shining dew,
And when I asked why such sweet buds
From out the cold, damp hillsides grew;
The roses nodded in the wind,
And every velvet lip replied,
“We came to tell the love of God,
And tell the sweet, old story wide.
And that we might the longer stay
To light the path and cheer the way,
Where’er the little children stray,
Our stems are wisely wrapped in thorn,
That weary night and golden morn,
From baby lips to wake a smile
’Mid baby thoughts all pure from guile.”

MOTHER EARTH’S LULLABY

Rest, baby, rest,
On my glad breast.
All the babies I have carried
Ever since sweet Eve was married,
And I love them all so well,
That I never yet could tell
Which I think the dearest one,
Whether daughter, whether son,
All are precious from their birth
To the fond old mother Earth.

Rest, baby, rest,
On my glad breast.
O, the pansies, pinks and roses,
Buttercups and fair, wild posies,
On the lawns and in the wild,
I am growing for each child;
Making streamlets dance with glee
For the baby eyes to see.
Guarding nests of birdies near
That bring songs to baby’s ear.

Rest, baby, rest,
On my glad breast.
Bread from golden field is coming;
Honey flows where bees are humming.
These in richness soon will come;
Apple, berry, grape and plum.
But may mother not forget
Milk is baby’s glory yet;
And for years it still must be,
If you would a jewel see.

Rest, baby, rest,
On my glad breast.
How I watch your priceless slumbers.
Holding careful, countless numbers;
Constant turning round and round,
That the sleeping sleep more sound
In the shade; and those that wake
See the rosy morning break.
List’ning to hosannas sweet,
That all babyhood will greet.

Rest, baby, rest,
On my glad breast.
Whether in the wilds near Eden,
Or in Father Noah’s garden,
Kings and peasants, rich and poor,
Born to ignorance or lore,
I have done the best I could
With the flocks of babyhood.
Every baby is a gem;
My old heart goes out to them!

LULLABY OF THE RAIN-DROPS

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops,
Baby dear,
Falling lightly on the home-roof,
That we hear.
Patter, patter, low and sweet,
Like the touch of velvet feet
Coming near.

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops
On the grass,
Makes it grow so green and shining
As they pass.
And each leaf upon the trees
Waves, like jewels in the breeze,
Liquid glass.

’Tis the patter of the rain-drops
On the brook,
Makes it dimple, dimple, dimple,
As we look:
Saying as they run away,
“We write records every day
In Love’s Book.”

’Tis the cradle song of summer
That we hear,
In the patter of the rain-drops,
Coming near.
Though the dark skies seem to frown
Every drop brings blessings down,
Baby dear.

KISSING THE SUNBEAM

A babe not old enough to speak or walk was creeping on the floor. By and by a bright ray of sunshine fell upon the carpet. Baby saw it and crept towards the dazzling spot. She looked at it, with the greatest interest in her sweet face; and then, putting down her little lips, she kissed it.

O sweet little babe, in thy innocent glee,
Kissing the sunbeam so golden and bright;
God sent it, a messenger lovely, to thee,
From the blue fields of heaven, all fledged with the light.

Then kiss the bright beaming, thou dear little one;
And mayest thou ever be grateful to Him
Who gave to redeem us His glorious Son
And filleth our cup of sweet joy to the brim.

O kiss the bright sunbeam that gladdens thy home,
Though ’tween the dark storm clouds that sunbeam may come;
It cometh so golden, so beautiful ever;
Then welcome the sunbeam, and praise the kind Giver.

The Lord, in His love to the children of earth,
Showers His mercies and joys ’round the hearth;
Crowns the year with His goodness and bounty of love,
’Till the earth teems with blessings all fresh from above.

God scatters them freely and kindly on all:
Every moment they come, and how thickly they fall;
But blessings, like sunbeams in showers of gold,
Are drunk without praises by hearts dark and cold.

He sends them to tell us how kind is His care.
He sends them to tell us how thankless we are.
He sends them to beautify Life’s troubled stream;
O praise ye the Giver Who sendeth the beam.

JEWEL OF THE CRADLE

How fondly the heart of the mother is stirred,
As she bends o’er the cradle where Innocence sleeps,
And the sweetest of names and the tenderest word
For her little birdling she carefully keeps.

How precious its smiles and its cooing to her;
And the light of its eye gives her joy anew,
And e’en while she sleeps, her fond heart waketh still,
Like a list’ning star in Night’s curtain of blue.

Her fond, circling arms press it still to her breast,
Where lulled by her heart-throb it slumbers again.
If aught should awake it, the mother will start
From dreaming and patiently comfort it then.

How wilt thou reward her, O sweet little babe?
How give back the years of her labor and care?
How pay for the tears of sweet sympathy shed;
The heart’s deepest yearning; the river of prayer?

O sweet little babe, learn of Jesus to love;
Sing Zion’s sweet songs with thy silvery voice;
O then shall the heart of thy mother be glad,
And o’er thy existence forever rejoice.

BABY SWEET

Baby sweet is a wonderful one,
From the bright country beyond the sun;
Whether a boy or whether a girl,
Each smile is pure; each tooth is a pearl;
Whether we wake at midnight or morn,
Still we are glad the sweet baby is born.

Baby sweet is a wonderful one,
With eyes that shine like dew in the sun;
With velvet hands of the lily white;
With cheeks and lips of the roses bright.
Whether a boy or whether a girl,
A voter to be; the flag to unfurl.

Baby sweet is a wonderful one.
Teach the small feet to lovingly run;
Teach the small hands to loving caress;
Teach the pure lips to pray and to bless.
Whether a boy or whether a girl;
Whether its locks are to braid or to curl;
Hide from it vanity, cruelty hide;
Feed it with purity, never with pride.

ANGEL OF THE CRADLE

There’s an angel in the cradle.
’Tis a little stainless one,
In the morning of existence.
Here we see the rising sun
Of intelligence unfolding,
And its dewy thought unspring,
All so primitive and hopeful,
As the mind unfurls its wing.

Deathless wing! O little stranger,
New-born messenger of love.
Jesus shield thy soul from danger,
Jesus lead thee safe above.
Suffer not, O blest Redeemer!
Suffer not this child to stray
From the fountain of salvation
And the happy, heavenly way.

Suffer not, O God, my Saviour!
This dear child’s young heart to fill
With the follies of the worldly.
May she yield to Thee her will.
May she seek Thee, living Saviour;
Teach her in Thy blood to trust,
And for faith in Thy redemption,
Thou mayest call her with the just.

O God! my heart, too full for utterance,
Claims Thy promise. Leave her not.
May Thy Spirit warn and shield her:
Be her joy, whate’er her lot.
O Thou for sinners crucified!
Hear for this babe the mother’s prayer.
O teach her all the way of life;
May Lily be an angel there,
Where comes no cloud of sin and fear
And never falls the parting tear.

LET ANGELS NAME IT

Mother, how thy little darling
Softly twines its tiny arms
’Round thy neck, like infant tendrils,
Bright with more than earthly charms.

What callest thou the baby cherub?
O can mortals find a name,
Suited to its guileless spirit,
And its fair and fragile frame?

The rose is on its snowy cheek,
Fresh as when embalmed with dew,
And O, its eyes are like the stars,
’Tween the soft clouds glancing through!

The ruby lip that mutely smiles,
The waving of the curls of gold,
The changing glances of the eye,
All shadow forth bright thoughts untold.

I know that in its sinless breast,
Embowered in the little heart,
Thoughts primitive steal softly on,
And Love’s own happy flowers start.

God’s Spirit oft may light its mind
With thoughts of gladness from above;
Too fair for earth, thy darling seems;
Let angels name the little Love.

O! let it never see a frown,
Nor hear a cold or cruel word;
Its eye will imitate thy glance;
Its tongue repeat whate’er is heard.

O guard, with prayer, this angel germ;
This bud upon Life’s ocean tossed,
Lest thou shouldst ever see thy child
Numbered among the loved and lost.

O guard, with prayer, this deathless bud!
That lust may never blight its bloom;
And thou shalt see this cherished one
In realms of peace beyond the tomb.

Teach it to fold those little hands,
And bend the knee to Christ in prayer:
And all the wishes of the heart
To tell the Lord who listens there.

Teach it to plead the promises,
Bequeathed in the sweet Book divine,
If thou wouldst have this child of earth
Among the stars of Heaven to shine.

THE TWO CRADLES

THE BABY PRINCESS

The cradle, carved like an open shell
Of ebony, polished bright,
Was all inlaid with silver rare
That shone in the mellow light,—
Which streamed through the tiny curtains, wove
Of silver gauze and velvet flowers,
And lightly touched the infant’s cheek,
As it lay in satin wrappings, weak,
And slept through the quiet hours;
And the princess dreamed in her costly bed,
With a lady grand at her feet and head;
And never knew nor cared what grace
Had fashioned frills of her dainty lace;
For she dreamed no sweeter while she slept,
Nor suffered less when in pain she wept;
Though the lullaby in the chorus said:
“There’s a sparkling crown for the royal head.”

THE LITTLE RUSTIC

In its cradle-hammock, cool and light,
A baby swayed in the summer air;
And through the leaves of the spreading trees,
It looked on the pure, blue heavens there;
And smiled as the warblers sang a song,
And cooed as the sweet breeze swept along,
Till its eyelids drooped and the lashes lay
On the velvet cheek; while the mother there
Guards still the babe of her tender care:
And the winds blow soft as they come that way
To touch the curls, and then whispering say,
“Peace to the child in its hammock bed,
And crowns of health for the bright young head.”

MY DARLING UNBORN

O dear little one that my eyes never saw,
Yet sprang to existence so near to my heart.
Thou gatherest strength from each breath that I draw;
Thus, of all I have precious, I give thee a part.
Thus I nourished thee, darling, by day and by night,
And in the strange burden I take a delight;
Hoping in future that thou, in thy love,
Wilt strengthen the feeble and guide them above.

While my heart sends to thee its own bright, crimson tide,
Freighted with sustenance, ruby and warm,
I bear all thy sorrows, nor seek to divide,
With my own hidden darling, the chill of the storm.
Thus I shield thee, my loved one, by night and by day;
For thee do I suffer and for thee do I pray.
My heart hovers o’er the calm place of thy rest;
I’m waiting to pillow thy head on my breast.

O! may God keep thee from guile and from sin;
May this voice of warning fall sweet on thine ear.
May He give thee a heart to love cleanness within
And all His commandments so priceless to hear.
Thus may Christ keep thee, my darling, my child;
Making thee humble and patient and mild;
Tuning thy harp for the realms of the blest:
O there meet me, darling, in Heaven to rest!

I give thee to Jesus, my dear little one.
To the kind Shepherd’s care I commit thee in love.
May He clothe thee in truth that outshineth the sun,
And lead thee by faith to the Mansions Above.
Thus I hope for His blessing by day and by night,
To let thee proclaim the great Gospel of Light,
And strengthen thy heart to praise Christ and adore,
When thy mother shall rest on the Heavenly Shore.

OUR FIRST-BORN

This little angel at my side,
Just four days old, our God hath given,
The little spirit newly fledged,
Just from our Father’s hand in Heaven.
Like a bright sunbeam thou art come,
To cheer and bless our earthly home.

No word ever fell from the dear little lips,
So sweet and so ruby; so guileless and mute.
God teach thee the language of love, my sweet babe:
May glad songs of Jesus pour forth from thy lute.
When fresh buds of thought are early unfolding,
God give to thy heart the true, heavenly molding,
And placing Christ’s image all glorious there,
To shield in temptation and lead thee to prayer;
In purity guide thee, sustained by His might;
And crown thee at last in the City of Light,
Where never to sin and to suffer and die,
We’ll sing “Hallelujah” in Bowers on High.

THE MOTHER’S THOUGHTS ON THE DEATH OF HER FIRST-BORN

Where is darling baby gone?
Where is my sweet, cherished boy,
With his soft hands at the dawn
Waking me in childish joy?
Where are those blue, sparkling eyes,
That were like stars of hope to me?
The angels took him to the skies,
To dwell, O God! to dwell with Thee.

He left his foot-prints in my home,
His voice is in my heart;
He left a kiss upon my lips,
That never can depart.
And there in Heaven where angels dwell,
Where parting tears are never known,
There lives the sweet and cherished one,
Which here on earth I called my own.

Dear Saviour, let me, on Thy breast,
In faithfulness and praise recline.
O let me never faint and fall,
Nor ever mourn while Thou art mine!
Thy spirit, Lord, is with me yet,
To wipe all tear-drops from my eyes,
And when the sun of life is set,
The loved shall meet me in the skies.

And now adown the path of life
I go to cheer the faint and worn,
And scatter words and acts of love,
For those of hope and comfort shorn.
In Thy bright foot-prints, O my Lord!
Help me to lead some straying one.
Be Thou my strength and hope and shield;
Be Thou to me the rising sun.
Rivers of pleasure, full and free,
Shall then flow from Thy throne above,
And all my gloom forgotten be,
Hid in the ocean of Thy love.

ANGEL-TWIN

They took the new-born baby-twin,
And sought to give it breath;
Yet all in vain, the quiv’ring heart
Soon silent lay in death.

It never knew an earthly care.
It never wept a tear.
Who would recall the innocent?
O who could wish it here!

Deep Slumber hushed it on her breast;
It sleeps beneath the sod.
We would not wake that guileless one,
That fair and folded bud.

The mother clasps the living twin
With a young mother’s love;
Yet even she would not recall
That sister babe above.

Dear Saviour, guard this little one,
Which Thou hast kindly given;
That she may meet the sister-saint;
Twin-angels, joined in Heaven.

OUR CHILDREN

“Our children.” Oft we hear these words,
Yet none but parents know
How deep they thrill the parent’s heart.
The oceans ebb and flow;
You stand upon the shores and see
The shining billows roll;
’Twould be another thing to have
The oceans in your soul;
To hear their music fill your heart,
Telling of hidden goal;
To feel the rush of every wave,
And have the vast control.

You watch the stars, the fadeless stars
That glitter on their way;
Yet if you had them all in charge,
To keep them night and day,
O then your glorious retinue,
Your starry host so bright,
Would be outweighed by one of these:
Our children of delight,
Nor the care these loved ones want,
To guide their thoughts aright,
That they may find the shining shore,
Beyond our mortal sight.

“Our children.” O these priceless words
Wake all life’s hidden springs;
Strike all the chords of hope and joy:
New thoughts spread trembling wings;
Fears whisper, and emotions weep,
While Hope lights up the tears
That oft baptize, like dewy spray,
Our darlings. May their years
Be filled with Wisdom’s holy light,
And sweet with holy cheer;
And may their brows be crowned with love,
Pure as the angels wear.

Our precious children! How we toil
To gather joys for them;
To shield them from the wintry blast:
What chilling tides we stem,
And when at last we sink in death,
God shield each darling one,
And keep them all in Virtue’s path;
The Tempter’s smile to shun;
Redeemed from sin, made pure and wise,
For that glad home above the skies.

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Notes:

Seemingly inconsistent indentation was retained as printed.