Dear Father, thou hast kindly kept
Thy child from danger all the night,
And now, my heart is filled with joy,
As I behold the morning light.
And I would speak of all thy love;
Oh, fill my heart with grateful praise,
And may I for these bounteous gifts,
Both love and serve thee all my days.
STRAWBERRY GIRL.
EMILY.
Mamma, do hear Eliza cry!
She wants a piece of cake, I know,
She will not stir to school without;
Do give her some, and let her go.
MOTHER.
Oh no, my dear, that will not do,
She has behaved extremely ill;
She does not think of minding me,
And tries to gain her stubborn will.
This morning, when she had her milk,
She gave her spoon a sudden twirl
And threw it all upon the floor;
Oh, she’s a naughty, wicked girl!
And now, forsooth, she cries for cake,
But that, my dear, I must refuse,
For children never should object
To eating what their parents choose.
That pretty little girl who came
To sell the strawberries here to-day,
Would have been very glad to eat
What my Eliza threw away;