The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hymns, Songs, and Fables, for Young People
Title: Hymns, Songs, and Fables, for Young People
Author: Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
Release date: September 13, 2005 [eBook #16688]
Most recently updated: December 12, 2020
Language: English
Credits: Produced by PM Childrens Library, Linda Cantoni, and the
Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.
Produced from page scans provided by Internet Archive and
University of Florida.
HYMNS,
SONGS, AND FABLES,
FOR
YOUNG PEOPLE.
BY
ELIZA LEE FOLLEN.
REVISED AND ENLARGED FROM THE LAST EDITION.
BOSTON:
WM. CROSBY AND H.P. NICHOLS,
118 WASHINGTON STREET.
1851.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846, by Wm. Crosby and H.P. Nichols, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
METCALF AND COMPANY,
PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY.
CONTENTS.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
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. A Ballad
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 of Ellen's Squirrel
The Pin, Needle, and Scissors
Learned Fred
Little Roland
Billy Rabbit to Mary
The Old and New Shoes
The Monkeys and the Bears
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
BY CHARLES FOLLEN.
This little book is dedicated to parents and children. Most of the poems were written with no other hope, than that they would instruct or please some child. The pleasure they have given in a limited circle has tempted the writer to print them. Some have never before appeared in public, but most of them have been already published in different works; some few, without the author's knowledge.
It will be found that these poems are intended for children of different ages and characters. It may be objected to the book, that gay and serious pieces are bound up together; but so it is in human life and human nature, and it is essential to the healthful action of a child's mind that it should be so. The smile that overtakes its tears is as necessary to the child as the sun after a spring shower is to the young plant; and without it a blight will fall upon the opening blossom.
The natural love that all have for their literary offspring, perhaps, first induced the author to bring the stray little family together. This motive was strengthened by the hope that children might love the book, and that she might have the pleasure of seeing it among their treasures, with the corners of the leaves well worn by their little fingers, and perhaps sometimes placed upon the pillow where "angels hover round."
This success, which must secure to her also the approbation of parents, she does aspire after, and most earnestly desire; this, and this alone, will satisfy her; without this, she would be the first to pronounce it an unworthy offering.
Cambridge, May 19, 1831.
PREFACE
TO THE PRESENT EDITION.
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.
"SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME."
This is what the Saviour said;
Little children, come and see
Where these gracious words are read.
Of the love of God they tell;
'Tis indeed a holy book,—
Learn to read and love it well.
"Come ye all and learn of me";
He was gentle, lowly, meek,—
So should all his followers be.
From his Father did descend,
He took them in his arms of love,
And children knew him for their friend.
Blessed in innocence they are;
Little children he caressed;
Praise him in your infant prayer.
HYMN.
From our hearts a song of praise!
Of that goodness let us sing
Whence our lives and blessings spring.
Praise to him who gave us sight,
Praise to him who formed the ear;
Will he not his children hear?
Praise him for our varied powers,
For these thoughts that rise above,
For these hearts he made for love,
Bearing witness when we sin;
Praise to him whose tender care
Keeps this watchful guardian there.
Jesus for our guide and friend;
Praise him, every heart and voice,
Him who makes all worlds rejoice.
HYMN FOR A LITTLE BOY.
When I am all alone,
As if some one could hear and see,
And all my thoughts were known?
And dance and sing with joy;
Sometimes it makes me very sad,
And frights your little boy.
For I have never known
Why 'tis I laugh, or why I cry,
When I am all alone."
There is a watchful eye
To which your very thoughts are known;
'Tis God is ever nigh.
He tunes your happy song;
O, then, my little timid boy,
Fear only doing wrong.
Who bids the good be gay,
With the same love will make it sad,
Whene'er you disobey.
Your weakest, faintest prayer;
He wipes away an infant's tears,
And children are his care."
"THE LORD IS MY STRENGTH."
But thou wilt strengthen me,
If from my heart I humbly seek
For help and light from thee.
Then, Father, pity me,
And make my failing virtue strong;
Help me to think of thee!
That courage give to me
Which ever speaks and acts the truth,
And puts its trust in thee.
HYMN.
The night, and shining day,
Regard a little child like me,
And listen when I pray?
Then will he hear my cry?
And when I shall be sick and old,
O, then will God be nigh?
Of his unfailing love;
And when his mercy most we need,
His mercy he will prove.
He looks upon the heart,
And from the humble and sincere
He never will depart.
He hears our faintest prayer;
Where'er the faithful Christian goes,
He finds his Father there.
God is a faithful friend,
And when no other help is near,
He will deliverance send.
But fear to disobey
That power which does your life sustain,
And guards you every day.
"THY WILL BE DONE."
To God, the Holy One,
With filial love and trust to say,—
"Father, thy will be done!"
A cure for every ill;
They calm and soothe the troubled mind,
And bid all care be still.
And an immortal soul,
In joy or grief, in life or death,
My every wish control!
Thus imitate thy Son!
Teach me, O God, with truth to say,—
"Thy will, not mine, be done!"
SABBATH DAY.
The best of all the seven,
To cast our earthly thoughts away,
And think of God and heaven!
Our sins may be forgiven;
With filial confidence to say,
"Father, who art in heaven"!
And, free from folly's leaven,
Confess that we have strayed from thee,
Thou righteous Judge in heaven!
In vain the will has striven,
He who regards the inmost heart
Will send his grace from heaven.
By cold unkindness driven,
The heart that knows no refuge here
Shall find a friend in heaven.
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.
Upon my quiet little bed,
And feel assured, that all day long
I have not knowingly done wrong!
"You have been very good to-day!"
How sweet to see my father's joy
When he can say, "My dear, good boy!"
To many a dear-loved distant friend,
And feel, if they my heart could see,
How very happy they would be!
Made all these shining worlds above
My pure and happy heart can see,
And loves a little boy like me.
GOD IS GOOD.
Waving fields, the dark green wood,
The insect fluttering for an hour,—
All things proclaim that God is good.
The hills that have for ages stood,
And clouds with gold and silver lined,
All still repeat that God is good.
Has the same verdant path pursued,
And every bird, in accents clear,
Joins in the song that God is good.
Calms each wild wave and billow rude,
Retreats submissive from the shore,
And swells the chorus, "God is good."
That sing his praise with light renewed;
The rising sun each day declares,
In rays of glory, God is good.
That God is good! and man, endued
With power to speak his Maker's praise,
Should still repeat that God is good.
EVENING.
The clouds how bright and gay!
The stars, appearing one by one,
How beautiful are they!
And sheds her gentle light,
And hangs her crystal lamp on high,
How beautiful is night!
Of something brighter far?
Glows there a light within this breast
Outshining every star?
The mountains melt away,
This flame within shall never fail,
But live in endless day.
Sin may its lustre dim;
While goodness bears it up to heaven,
And leads it back to him.
ROBINSON CRUSOE'S HYMN.
Around me and above,
Sends forth a hymn of praise to thee,
And speaks thy boundless love.
The woods so dark and lone;
The soft south-wind, the sounding sea,
Worship the Holy One.
The prattling, sparkling rill,
The birds, with their melodious song,
Repeat thy praises still.
Father, thou hearest me;
I know that I am not alone,
When I but think of thee.
HYMN.
Brought every being forth;
He made the shining worlds above,
And every thing on earth.
The sea, the waterfall,
The bright green fields, the clear blue sky,—
'Tis God that made them all.
My heart to love them well,
And he bestowed the power of thought,
And speech my thoughts to tell.
He is their father too;
He bids me all their precepts hear,
And all they teach me, do.
And 'mid the darkest night;
He views me when I disobey,
And when I act aright.
When I am all alone;
My hymn of praise, my humble prayer,
He hears them every one.
O, what a wondrous thought!
My Heavenly Father, teach me how
To love thee as I ought.
ON PRAYER.
Wandered forth the timid dove,
So the heart, in humble prayer,
Essays to reach the throne of love.
Like her again may soar,
And still return and find no rest,
No peaceful, happy shore.
And takes a bolder flight,
And see! the olive-branch she brings,
To bless her master's sight.
Though spent and tempest-driven,
And higher soars, and brings at length
A pledge of peace with Heaven.
"THE SPIRIT GIVETH LIFE."
Wild rushing through the oak,
Seemed to my listening, dreaming mind
As though a spirit spoke?
Doth give so sweet a song,
That on its tide my thoughts do seem
To pour themselves along?
What in each glowing star,
That speaks of things beyond the sight,
And questions what they are?
What in the ocean's roar,
Hears the grand chorus, "O, rejoice!"
Echo from shore to shore?
Pure thoughts and tender love,
And hears delicious melody
Around, below, above?
Of terror and dismay,
And wakes the agonizing shriek
Of guilt that fears to pray?
This little throb of life
Hears its own echoes in the wind,
And in the tempest's strife;
Its own affections gives;
Sees its own image everywhere,
Through all creation lives.
Give back the solemn tone;
This boundless arch of azure fills
With accents all its own.
This omnipresent thought?
How shall it ever utterance find
For all itself hath taught?
Its mysteries are known;
It seeks the source from whence it came,
And rests in God alone.
WE NEVER PART FROM THEE.
God, who makest all thy care,
God, who hearest every prayer,
Thou who see'st the heart;
Father, help our souls to rise,
And, beyond these narrow skies,
See thee as thou art!
Holy trust adore thy will,
Holy love our bosoms fill,
Let our songs ascend!
Dearest friends may parted be,
All our earthly treasures flee,
Yet we never part from thee,
Our eternal Friend.
"I WILL ARISE AND GO TO MY FATHER."
Thou high and holy One!
And may my troubled spirit flee
For rest to thee alone.
Secure and sweet repose;
And thou canst bid the desert mind
To blossom as the rose.
Where angels claim their birth,
Forsake its home beyond the skies,
And cling to barren earth.
That warns him to depart;
Shall I not heed the voice divine,
That whispers in my heart,—
No longer idly roam!
Fly to the realms of endless day;
For this is not thy home."
Ere clouds and darkness come,
And thunders in my startled ear
Proclaim my final doom.
Thy wandering child reclaim.
Speak! and my dying faith shall rise,
And wake a deathless flame.
EVENING HYMN.
Thou, whose love is everywhere,
Thou who seest every heart,
Listen to our evening prayer.
Love unfailing, full, and free,
Love no injury can move,
Love that ever rests on thee.
Keep us safe from every ill;
Cheerful as the morning light,
May we wake to do thy will.
AUTUMN.
I hear her parting knell;
I hear the moaning, fitful blast,
Sighing a sad farewell.
In rainbow hues she glows;
Like the last smile of parting day,
Still brightening as she goes.
Sad is the cricket's song;
The wind, wild rushing o'er the hill,
Bears the dead leaf along.
This twilight of the year;
To me, sweet Spring, in all her prime,
Was never half so dear.
On all that meets the eye,
'Tis rapture, then, within to feel
The soul that cannot die;—
To Him who changes never.
This earth, these heavens, shall change and die;
God is the same for ever.
THE LORD'S DAY.
From the deep slumbers of the tomb;
This is the day the Saviour broke
The bonds of fear and hopeless gloom.
No longer may we dread to die.
Let every fear be cast away,
And tears be wiped from every eye.
A dark and thorny path he trod;
But heaven was ever in his view,—
That toilsome path led up to God.
Let every sin and sorrow cease;
Let children come this day and bring
Their offering of love and peace.
THE MINISTRY OF PAIN.
Know 'tis a Father's hand you feel;
It leads you to the realms of peace;
It kindly only wounds to heal.
Bursts on the sad, desponding mind,
To say, when fiercest ills annoy,—
"I know my Father still is kind!"
Checks every murmur, every sigh;
Patience then waits his sovereign will,
Rejoiced to live,—resigned to die.
To teach the soul its real worth;
To lead it to that source again,
From whence it first derived its birth.
"BY FAITH YE ARE SAVED."
Thou prayest for the help that thou dost need,
As shipwrecked mariner for life will plead,
O, then for faith pour forth the fervent prayer!
'Tis faith alone life's heavy ills can bear.
O, mark her calm, far-seeing, quickening eye,
Full of the light of immortality!
It tells of worlds unseen, and calls us there;
That look of hers can save thee from despair.
And all life's flowers are fading in the dust,
Faith lifts our drooping vision from the ground,—
Says, that the hand that smites us yet is just;
That human agony hath ever found
The mighty God a never-failing trust.