Rescue them from that
heart-breaking loneliness and sorrow that prey incessantly on the
feelings of a sensitive, intelligent, _motherless child_.
FAITH.
BY MRS. E.R.B. WALDO.
Upon the peaceful breast of Faith
My troubled soul hath found repose,
Free from the sad and starless gloom
That doubting scepticism knows.
Though disappointment, care, and pain,
Have bent my heart to their decree,
One thought hath ever led me on,
It is, _that it was so to be_.
Oft would my weary spirit faint,
My heart yield almost to despair,
Did not "a still small voice" exclaim,
"There is no change, but God is there."
That mighty power which points the shaft,
And forms the spirit to endure,
Will, in its own peculiar way
And time, perform the wondrous cure.
Still may my soul, through faith, rely
Upon the promises of God;
His mercy see in every change,
And learn to bless his chastening rod.
THE SNOW-BIRDS.
A DIALOGUE.
BY MRS. C. HIGHBORN.
_Clarissa_. Pray, Mary, what are you going to do with those crumbs which
you hold in your hand?
_Mary_. I am going to feed my snow-birds with them; and I should be very
happy to have you go with me.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93