When I was a youth, Father William replied,
  I remembered that youth would fly fast;
I abused not my health and my vigor at first,
  That I never might need them at last.

You are old, Father William, the young man said,
  And pleasures, with youth, pass away;
And yet you repent not the days that are gone
  Now tell me the reason, I pray.

When I was a youth, Father William replied,
  I remembered that youth could not last: 
I thought of the future, whatever I did,
  That I never might grieve for the past.

You are old, Father William, the young man still cries,
  And life is swift hastening away
You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death! 
  Come tell me the reason, I pray.

I am cheerful, young man, Father William replied;
  Let the cause your attention engage: 
In the days of my youth I remembered my God! 
  And he hath not forgotten my age.

THE LITTLE GIRL AND HER PETS.

Girl Swallow, thou dear one! now thou,
               indeed,
             From thy wandering dost reappear,
             Tell me, who is it to thee that hath said
             That again it is spring-time here.
Swa. The fatherly God, in that far-off clime,
             Who sent me, he told me ’twas sweet
               spring-time.

And though she had come so far and wide,
She was not deceived in time or tide.

[Illustration]

The snow it was gone, the sun shone warm,
The merry gnats danced in many a swarm,
The Swallow knew neither want nor care,
She found for her children enough and to

    spare.

Girl Come, little Dog, ’tis your master’s will
             That you learn to sit upright and still.
Dog Learn must I?  I’m so small, you see,
             Just for a little while let it be!
Girl No, little Dog, it is far best to learn soon,
             For later it would be more painfully done.

The little Dog learned, without more ado,
And soon could sit upright and walk
upright too;
In deepest waters unfearing could spring,
And whatever was lost could speedily bring. 
The master saw his pleasure, and he too
began
To learn, and thus grew up a wise, good
man.

[Illustration]

THE FLOWERS.

Say, Ma! did God make all the flowers
  That richly bloom to-day? 
And is it he that sends sweet showers
  To make them look so gay?

Did he make all the mountains
  That rear their heads so high? 
And all the little fountains
  That glide so gently by?

And does he care for children small? 
  Say, ma! does God love me?

Has he the guardian care of all
  The various things we see?