This is one of the famous pictures of the great artist Murillo. The little child John is giving the little Jesus a drink from a shell. "The child nature is charmingly portrayed, so innocent and gentle--seeming to suggest a lovable nature in the artist himself. His pictures always arouse the reverential feeling--which puts the stamp of artistic greatness upon them."
| THE DAY IS DONE |
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; [{482}] Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day, Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. |
| --Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. |
Used by the kind permission of Houghton, Mifflin and Company.
| A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD |
They say that God lives very high. But if you look above the pines You cannot see God. And why? And if you dig down in the mines You never see Him in the gold Though from Him all that's glory shines. God is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across His face-- Like secrets kept, for love, untold. But still I feel that His embrace Slides down by thrills, through all things made, Through sight and sound of every place: As if my tender mother laid On my shut lids her kisses' pressure, Half waking me at night; and said, "Who kissed through the dark, dear guesser?" |
| --Elizabeth Barrett Browning. |
| LULLABY SONG |
Sleep, baby, sleep! Thy father watches his sheep; Thy mother is shaking the dreamland tree, And down comes a little dream on thee. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! The large stars are the sheep; The little stars are the lambs, I guess; And the gentle moon is the shepherdess. Sleep, baby, sleep! Sleep, baby, sleep! Our Saviour loves His sheep: He is the Lamb of God on high, Who for our sakes came down to die. Sleep, baby, sleep! |
| --From the German. |