CHILD.
How could they be so very poor,
When Christ was Lord of all? I’m sure,
I should have thought that he would come
To live in some delightful home.
He could have had the sweetest spot
In all the world,—why did he not?
Why did the infant Savior lie
In a poor stable? Tell me why
He did not have a home like ours,
With a nice garden, full of flowers
And trees, where lovely birds should sing,
To cheer the infant Savior King?
MOTHER.
When Jesus came to save our race,
He meant to show such wondrous grace,
That rich and poor alike might see
He condescends their Friend to be.
The poorest child may never fear
To pour its wants into his ear,
For Jesus, though a king above,
Looks down with sympathy and love.
He knows exactly what we need,
And he will be our Friend indeed,
Will kindly listen to our prayer,
And all our little sorrows share.
THE TWO COUSINS.
Two wee-bit cousins went out to ride,
Their carriages rolling side by side;
The air was not damp, or chilly, or raw,
But as bright a day as ever you saw.