“The pure in heart alone can hear
  Those precious words and low;
And by their lessons purer yet
  Throughout their lives shall grow.”

[Illustration]

THE FOUR GIFTS.

[Illustration:  Letter A.]

A new-born babe was sleeping
  Within its cradle fair,
And angel guards were keeping
  Its peaceful slumbers there.

Gone was the age of fairies,
  And of the elfins wild,
Who, hovering o’er the infant’s couch,
  Were wont to bless the child.

But in a distant city,
  Fays that still glad the earth,
Four gentle little children,
  Hailed with delight his birth.

Out spake the eldest sister,
  “O, let us fairies play,
And give to our young brother
  Some precious gift to-day.

“Sit down around the fireside,
  And I my gift will tell.” 
And the little children sat them down
  The fancy pleased them well.

Again thus spake the eldest,
  “I ’ll give him beauty rare;
His eyes shall be as diamonds bright,
  His brow like marble fair.

“He shall have golden ringlets,
  His cheeks shall mock the rose;
And he shall be the loveliest
  Where’er his light form goes.”

The next replied, “Oh! sister,
  Not such a gift is mine;
For beauty’s charms, though lovely,
  Must perish and decline.

“I’ll give him wit and talents;
  In manhood he shall stand
Among the gifted and the wise,
  That bless our native land.”

“I’ll give him sweet good-temper,”
  Said the third loving child;
“He shall make glad our happy home
  By actions kind and mild.”

The youngest raised her wondering eyes,
  And said, in accents low,
“I thought the gift I chose would be
  The first that you ’d bestow.

“I’ll give our little brother
  Obedience to-day,
And he shall mind, with cheerfulness,
  All that our parents say.”

Oh! blessed is the childish heart,
  In life’s first opening dawn,
For all its high and holy thoughts
  From heavenly founts are drawn.

May our most valued blessings be
  Obedience and love! 
Our hearts, like that sweet sister’s, full
  Of teachings from above!

[Illustration]

THE TWO LULLABIES.

  “Once songs as lullabies to thee I sung,
  To sleep hath sung thee now an angel’s tongue.”

  From the German of Ruckert.

[Illustration:  Letter A.]

A lovely babe was lying
  Upon its mother’s breast;
And she, with soft, low music. 
  Was hushing it to rest.

The song was sweet and gentle,
  And loving in its tone;
And in its touching tenderness
  A mother’s love was shown.

And still it floated onward,
  With melody so deep,
Till closed the dark-fringed eyelids,
  The baby was asleep.