The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Mother's Nursery Songs, by Thomas Hastings.

Come let us learn to sing,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
Loud let our voices ring,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw;
Let us sing with open sound,
With our voices full and round,
Faw mi law sol faw law sol faw.

This is the scale so sweet,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
Sing it with accent meet,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
First ascend in notes so true,
Then descend in order too;
Faw mi law sol faw law sol faw.

Children should love to sing,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw,
Praise to the heav'nly King,
Faw sol law faw sol law mi faw:
Let us learn his face to seek,
Then aloud his praise we'll speak,
Faw, mi, law, sol, faw, law, sol, faw.

THE ABC.

The A, B, C,
Is pleasant to me,
I'm learning it all the day;
Whenever I look
In a printed book,
I See nothing but A, B, C.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C.
I See nothing but A, B, C.

I'm glad to know,
The fine little row,
Of letters both great and small,
The D, E, F, G,
The M, N, O, P,
And the X, Y, Z and all:
Sing A, B, C,
Sing R, S, T,
Sing X, Y, Z and all.

If I can fix
These marks twenty-six,
In this little careless head;
I'll read every book
As soon as I look
At the letters all over it spread.
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
And the letters all over it spread.

I now will learn
Them all in turn,
The big letters and the small;
For how can I spell,
Or pronounce them well,
Till I shall have learned them all?
Sing A, B, C,
Sing X, Y, Z,
For I'm going to learn them all.

The bees and flies
Have nice little eyes,
But never can read like me;
They crawl in the book,
And they seem to look,
But they never know A, B, C;
Sing A, B, C,
Sing A, B, C,
They never know A, B, C.

THE LITTLE LAMB.

I saw a little lamb to-day,
It was not very old;
Close by its mother's side it lay,
So soft within the fold:
It felt no sorrow, pain, or fear,
While such a comforter was near.

Sweet little lamb, you cannot know
What blessing I have lost:
Were you like me, what could you do,
Amid the wintry frost?
My clothes are thin, my food is poor,
And I must beg from door to door.

I had a mother once, like you,
To keep me by her side:
She cherish'd me and lov'd me too;
But soon, alas! she died:
Now sorrowful and full of care,
I'm lone and weary every where.

My father was not kind to me,
He went away from home;
I long'd again his face to see,
But he would never come:
Before he died he would be found
Sleeping upon the naked ground.

I must not weep and break my heart,
They tell me not to grieve:
Sometimes I wish I could depart,
And find a peaceful grave:
They say such sorrows never come
To those who slumber in the tomb.

'Twas thus a little orphan sung,
Her lonely heart to cheer;
Before she wander'd very long,
She found a Savior near:
He bade her seek his smiling face
And find in heav'n a dwelling place.

THE ORPHAN.

O, if I were a robin,
I'd soon be on the wing,
I'd leave my sighs and sobbin'
And sweetly I would sing;
And early in each morning
I'd fly from tree to tree;
And going and returning
What pretty things I'd see?

But now I am so lonely,
I know not where to stay,
My little brother only
Is with me day by day:
My mother dear was crying
When father lay so low:
When she herself was dying—
I know not what to do.

Our parents are in heaven,
Their spirits went above;
Their sins were all forgiven,
For they the Lord did love:
God call'd them to forsake us,
And laid them in the dust;
But he himself will take us,
If in his name we trust.

If Jesus will receive us
Within his precious fold;
And when he'll please to give us
Some pretty wings of gold;
Then soon we will be flying
Up to that blessed place,
Where there is no more crying,
So near his smiling face.

THE PENITENT CHILD.

A long time ago, when Janett was a child,
As thoughtless as others, as giddy and wild;
She was sent by her mistress one evening so fair,
Where a family circle were kneeling in prayer.

Her young heart was then touch'd, she would afterwards say—
"O! that my dear master but knew how to pray;"
For she had no father to pray for her soul,
No mother to counsel, advise, or control.

One night as the snows drifted deep through the vale,
While the bleak whistling wind was all dreary and chill,
She again sought the house where she first heard a pray'r,
And close to the door held her listening ear.

She heard, as the story of Jesus was read,
How he suffer'd below, how for sinners he bled;
Tears fell from her eyes like the drops of a show'r,
Till sobbings of anguish were heard at the door.

That night did the Lord, by his Spirit, impart,
To the penitent child a conversion of heart;
Then happy was she, though an orphan and poor,
And she never forgot how she knelt at the door.

THE HEATHEN MOTHER.

See that heathen mother stand
Where the sacred currents flow,
With her own maternal hand,
Mid the waves her infant throw.

Hark! I hear the piteous scream,
Frightful monsters seize their prey:
Or the dark and bloody stream
Bears the struggling child away.

Fainter now, and fainter still,
Breaks the cry upon the ear;
But the mother's heart is steel;
She, unmov'd, that cry can hear.

Send, O send the Bible there,
Let its precepts reach the heart,
She may then her children spare—
Act the mother's tender part.

THE BLOSSOM.

Just now a fragile blossom grew,
Upon a lowly stem;
Its opening leaves disclos'd to view
A glitt'ring dewy gem.

Jane saw, and gently on her breast,
The tender flow'ret plac'd,
When lo! a rude and angry gust
Its beauties all effac'd.

Its leaves were scatter'd by the wind,
Its fragrance lost in air;
Till nothing there was left behind,
Of all that was so fair.

Young children, like this little flower,
Though beautiful and gay,
May in some sudden, mournful hour,
By death be borne away.

But the good child who loves to pray,
Whose sins are all forgiv'n,
Who loves the Savior's will t' obey,
May live and bloom in heav'n.

BY THE SIDE OF A RIVER.

By the side of a river so clear,
They carried the beautiful child,
Mid the flags and the bushes,
In an ark of bulrushes,
They left him so lonely and wild;
For the ruffians would come
If he tarried at home,
And murder that infant so dear.

By the side of the river so clear,
The ladies were winding their path,
When Pharaoh's daughter
Stepp'd into the water
Her delicate person to bathe:
Before it was dark,
She open'd the ark,
And found a sweet infant was there.

By the side of the river so clear,
That infant was lonely and sad,
She took him in pity
And thought him so pretty,
And made little Moses so glad,
She call'd him her own—
Her beautiful son,
And sent for some nurse that was near.

Away from the river so clear,
They carried the beautiful child;
To his own tender mother
His sister and brother,
And then he look'd happy and smil'd.
His mother so good,
Did all that she could,
To nurse him and teach him with care.

Once more by that river so clear,
When Moses was aged and good;
He saw the king tremble,
Relent and dissemble,
And the waters all turning to blood
The king would abuse,
And trouble the Jews,
And turn to the Lord a deaf ear.

And soon by the sea that was red,
Stood Moses the servant of God;
While in him he confided,
The deep was divided,
As upward he lifted his rod.
The Jews safely cross'd,
While Pharaoh's host,
Were drown'd in the waters and dead.

And soon on a mountain so high,
Stood Moses, all trembling with awe;
Mid the lightnings and thunders,
And great signs and wonders,
For God was then giving his law.
The Lord wrote it down,
On two tables of stone,
Before he went back to the sky.

Once more on a mountain he stood,
The last one he ever might see;
The prospect was glorious,
Where Israel victorious,
Would soon over Jordan be free.
Then his labors did cease;
He departed in peace,
And now rests in the heav'nly abode.

Questions and details relating to the history of Moses, are very profitable and instructive to children. Bible histories, well told, have a powerful influence upon their minds.

VOICE OF SPRING.

Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
Woods and fields with echoes ring,
While the birds so sweetly sing;
Music floats
In joyous notes
From many a tuneful string.

Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
Busy bees are on the wing,
None but drones are slumbering:
Children too
Should learn to do
Every useful thing.

Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
From the flowers the breezes bring
Many a fragrant offering,
Emblem true
Of incense due
To Zion's glorious king.

Hark, hark, the voice of spring,
Trees their branches upward fling,
Vines unto their tendrils cling;
Infant bands
Lift up your hands,
Devoutly worshipping.

PART IV.
——
THE ALTAR.

The music found in the preceding pages, may suffice in some measure for training and exercising the voices of young children. Care should be taken that the child pronounces his words with distinctness and precision. The vowels also should be formed in the throat and not in the mouth or nose. The manner of uttering the vowels, is that which gives a pleasant or unpleasant tone of voice to the singer. Properly speaking, we are never to sing the consonants, but to articulate them instantly, much as in speech, though louder and with greater precision. We sing only the vowels, and hence our manner of treating them is almost the only circumstance that gives sweetness and polish to the voice.

The music which here follows, is not intended for drilling exercises. The little songs or hymns are strictly devotional; and should as far as practicable, be accompanied with devotional associations of thought and feeling. This is a principle of unspeakable importance; and one that ought every where to pervade the cultivation of devotional song.

NOW I LAY ME DOWN.

AT NIGHT.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

Watts.

IN THE MORNING.

Through the night with slumber press'd,
The Lord hath giv'n me quiet rest;
Let mercy guide me through the day,
And lead me in the narrow way.

THE SUN HATH GONE TO REST.

EVENING.

The sun hath gone to rest,
The bee forsakes the flower,
The young bird slumbers in its nest,
Within the leafy bower.

Where have I been this day
Into what folly run?
Forgive me, Father, when I pray
Through Jesus Christ thy son.

When all my days are o'er,
And in the grave I lie;
Wilt thou permit my soul to soar,
To worlds beyond the sky.

L. H. S.

DARK NIGHT AWAY.

MORNING.

Dark night away hath roll'd,
Glad birds are soaring high,
The sun with rays of gold,
Looks from the dazzling sky.

Teach me to thank the power,
Whose hand sustains me so;
Who o'er each fragrant flower,
Bids dews of mercy flow.

O raise my heart above,
Where angel hosts adore;
I'll praise thee for thy love,
And count thy mercies o'er.

L. H. S.

THE TEMPEST.

The night is dark, the wind is high,
And rain is pouring from the sky,
There is no moon,
The stars are gone,
The lamps are out, the fire is down.

How sad and lonely is this night,
I cannot see a gleam of light;
Awake I keep,
And silent weep,
While parents dear are fast in sleep.

But there is one who dwells above,
Whose looks are bright, whose name is love,
His guardian care
Is every where,
And those who love him need not fear.

Such was the night in Galilee,
When the disciples on the sea,
Far from the coast,
By tempest tost,
Expected to be sunk and lost.

The Lord rebuk'd the angry seas,
And hush'd the winds and waves to peace,
He spake the word,
The tempest heard,
And own'd the pow'r of Christ the Lord.

Then let the rain in torrents pour,
And let the winds in tumult roar;
Dark be the night,
Yet Christ my light,
Around me shines in splendor bright.

AWAKE, AWAKE MY LOVE.

MORNING.

Awake, awake my love,
The Savior from above,
Would lend his gracious ear
To listen to your prayer,
Rise and unbosom every care.

Awake, awake my love,
The Savior from above,
In accents kind and mild,
Would own you as his child,
Though you're by nature all defil'd.

Awake, awake my love,
The Savior from above,
Can pardon all your sin,
And bid your soul be clean;
His blood can cleanse from every stain.

H. S. M.

AND NOW THE DAY IS ENDING.

EVENING.

And now the day is ending,
With all its toil and care:
My voice to heav'n ascending
Shall offer praise and prayer:
The Lord is ever mindful
Of those who seek his face;
And children weak and sinful,
May feel his saving grace.

For all my sin and folly,
This day from morn to e'en,
I pray the Lord most holy,
That I may be forgiv'n.
His bleeding love so precious,
I now recall to mind:
The Lord is ever gracious,
And pitiful and kind.

While I, my sins confessing,
Implore his pard'ning love;
I'll praise him for each blessing
Descending from above;
Ingratitude, so hateful—
O! keep me from that sin;
Lord make me truly grateful,
And cleanse my soul within.

HAPPY CHILD.

Happy, happy child am I,
On a mother's arms to lie,
Or to rest my weary head
On a soft and downy bed,
Beneath her gentle eye:
While she kneels beside me there,
Teaching me a holy pray'r.

But the little heathen child,
Naked, ignorant and wild,
Has no home or downy bed,
Where to rest his aching head,
Or mother's arms to shield.
She no prayer of love can say,
Heathen mothers will not pray.

Blessed Savior, now I see,
Thou art kinder far to me,
And I will not lay my head,
On my downy peaceful bed,
Till I have pray'd to thee;
Thank'd thee for a mother's care,
Such as heathen never share.

THE STORM.

How fierce the lightning blazes!
I hear the thunders roar;
Hark! how the wind arises!
While clouds their waters pour:
But in the Lord confiding
Our souls feel no alarm:
For he himself is riding
Upon the angry storm.

The lightnings are his arrows,
The thunders are his voice
Yet e'en the feeblest sparrows
May safe in him rejoice;
The clouds and winds and waters,
Obey his sovereign word;
Let Zion's sons and daughters
Adore th' Almighty Lord.

When lightnings red are streaking,
A Father's arm is bar'd;
When thunders loud are speaking,
A Father's voice is heard:
The foes that flee before him,
Can never feel his grace;
While children that adore him,
Shall see his smiling face.

LORD'S PRAYER.

THE LORD'S PRAYER.

Our Father, our Father in heav'n,
Be hallowed thy glorious name,
To thee let the kingdom be giv'n,
Thy will we acknowledge supreme.

We would by thy bounty be fed,
By infinite mercy forgiv'n;
Nor into temptation be led,
Or into sad evils be driv'n.

For thine is the kingdom, O Lord,
The power and the glory are thine,
Be forever and ever ador'd,
On earth as in heav'n divine.

SELF CONSECRATION.

SELF-CONSECRATION.

O, Jesus, delight of my soul,
My Savior, my Shepherd divine;
I yield to thy blessed control,
My body and spirit are thine;
Thy love I can never deserve,
That bids me be happy in thee;
My God and my King I will serve,
Whose favor is heaven to me.

How can I thy goodness repay,
By nature so weak and defil'd?
Myself I have given away;
O call me thine own little child:
And art thou my Father above?
Will Jesus abide in my heart?
O, bind me so fast with thy love,
That I never from thee shall depart.

CHILDREN, LISTEN.

HOSANNA.

Hosannas were by children sung,
When Jesus was on earth;
Then surely we are not too young
To sound his praises forth:
The Lord is great, the Lord is good;
He feeds us from his store,
With earthly and with heav'nly food,
We'll praise him evermore.

And when to him young children came,
He took them in his arms:
He bless'd them in his Father's name,
And spoke with heav'nly charms:
We thank him for his gracious word,
We thank him for his love:
We'll sing the praises of our Lord,
Who reigns in heav'n above.

Before he left this world of woe,
On Calvary he died;
His blood for us did freely flow
Forth from his wounded side;
O, then we'll magnify his name
Who groan'd and died for us;
We'll worship the atoning Lamb,
And kneel before his cross.

He rose again and walk'd abroad,
And many saw his face:
They call'd him the incarnate God,
Redeemer of our race:
He rose and he ascended high,
We'll bow to his command:
His glories fill the earth and sky,
He sits at God's right hand.

[1] The judicious mother, however fond of her infant son, will not desire him to understand this sentiment.

[2] The boy alluded to in this instance, is supposed not to be within hearing of the song.

[3] This process, by the way, is often performed so roughly as to occasion no inconsiderable pain.

[4] This must of course be understood as the language of affectionate solicitude, and not as the expression of peevishness or ill natured censure.

[5] The thoughts contained in this song may suggest a profitable method of teaching the doctrines of native depravity; and salvation through a bleeding Savior. The pure example of Christ also, when frequently presented to the infantile mind, operates as a powerful restraint.

[6] In connexion with this song, the ten commandments may be recited, in such a manner as to show their meaning, and illustrate the thoughts contained in the hymn.

[7] This is an excellent lesson for children who are prone to be talkative; especially those who have a little advanced beyond the period of early infancy.

[8] Great care should here be taken, that the sounds of the SCALE are accurately tuned; and that the suggestions given in the song, in reference to the formation of the voice, be successfully reduced to practice.

[9] The slurs are applied chiefly to the second stanza.