The brave are the tender,—then
do not refuse
To carefully cherish the brutes
you must use;
Make their life’s labor
sweet, not dreary and sad,
Their working and serving
you, easy and glad.
Chorus:
“Be kind,” etc.
He made them and blessed them,
the least are his care:
The swallow that wings her
swift flight through the air,
The dog on your hearthstone,
the horse in your barn,
The cow in your pasture, the
sheep on your farm.
Chorus:
“Be kind,” etc.
Our Dumb Animals.
* * * * *
ACTION.
Do something! do it soon!
with all thy might;
An angel’s
wing would droop if long at rest,
And God inactive
were no longer blest.
Some high or humble enterprise
of good
Contemplate till
it shall possess thy mind,
Become thy study, pastime,
rest, and food,
And kindle in
thy heart a flame refined:
Pray heaven for firmness thy
whole soul to bind
To this high purpose:
to begin, pursue,
With thoughts all fixed, and
feelings purely kind;
Strength to complete,
and with delight review,
And strength to
give the praise where all is due.
WILCOX.
* * * * *
“IN HIM WE LIVE.”
The measureless gulfs of air
are full of Thee:
Thou art, and
therefore hang the stars: they wait
And swim, and shine in God
who bade them be,
And hold their
sundering voids inviolate.
A God concerned (veiled in
pure light) to bless,
With sweet revealing
of his love, the soul;
Towards things piteous,
full of piteousness;
The Cause, the
Life, and the continuing Whole.
He is more present to all
things He made
Than anything
unto itself can be;
Full-foliaged boughs of Eden
could not shade
Afford, since
God was also ’neath the tree._
JEAN INGELOW.
* * * * *
FIRM AND FAITHFUL.
Be firm and be faithful; desert
not the right;
The brave are the bolder,
the darker the night;
Then up and be doing, though
cowards may fail;
Thy duty pursuing, dare all,
and prevail.
If scorn be thy portion, if
hatred and loss,
If stripes or a prison, remember
the cross!
God watches above thee, and
He will requite;
Stand firm and be faithful,
desert not the right.
NORMAN MCLEOD.
* * * * *
HEART SERVICE.
Our hearts’ pure service,
Love, be thine,
Who clothest all with rights
divine,
Whose great Soul burns, though
ne’er so dim,
In all that walk, or fly,
or swim.
All Father! who on Mercy’s
throne
Hear’st thy dumb creatures’
faintest moan,—
Thy love be ours, and ours
shall be
Returned in deeds to thine
and Thee.