The Lord's Forget-me-nots grow everywhere
Along the Christian's path as he pursues
His Heavenward journey. And a Father's care
Gives each sweet odors and most lovely hues.
And they throughout the darkest days diffuse
A balmy fragrance strikingly delicious!
Yet we, vain mortals, oft these sweets refuse
And choose instead that which is most pernicious,—
Thus wandering far from God, who always is propitious.
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
JENNY AND HER PET LAMB.
By the side of lonely moor,
In a humble clay-built cot,
Lived a widow very poor
Who received her daily store
As the Lord's Forget-me-not.
With her lived her little girl,
Blithe and pretty blue eyed Jane;
She wore golden locks in curl,
Which showed Nature was no churl,
If it did not make her vain.
Plain but neatly was she dressed,
With her lot was quite content,
No great cares her mind oppressed,
She with cheerfulness was blessed,
While in work her time was spent.
Came there by the cot one day
Quite a numerous flock of sheep.
Lambs did by their mothers play,
One was in a sickly way,
Which called up Jane's feelings deep.
He who drove them, hard of heart,
Did that sickly lamb abuse;
This increased young Jennie's smart,
It went through her like a dart,
Wondering, "would the man refuse
"To give her that pretty lamb
Which appeared so like to die?"
Came the thought to her like balm,
Her distress of mind to calm,
As she to the man drew nigh.
When to him she made request
Answered he in surly tones,
"She might have the little pest,
For it was at very best
But a heap of skin and bones!"