Our parents are in heaven,
Their spirits went above;
Their sins were all forgiven,
For they the Lord did love:
God call'd them to forsake us,
And laid them in the dust;
But he himself will take us,
If in his name we trust.
If Jesus will receive us
Within his precious fold;
And when he'll please to give us
Some pretty wings of gold;
Then soon we will be flying
Up to that blessed place,
Where there is no more crying,
So near his smiling face.
THE PENITENT CHILD.
[[Listen]]
THE PENITENT CHILD.
A long time ago, when Janett was a child,
As thoughtless as others, as giddy and wild;
She was sent by her mistress one evening so fair,
Where a family circle were kneeling in prayer.
Her young heart was then touch'd, she would afterwards say—
"O! that my dear master but knew how to pray;"
For she had no father to pray for her soul,
No mother to counsel, advise, or control.
One night as the snows drifted deep through the vale,
While the bleak whistling wind was all dreary and chill,
She again sought the house where she first heard a pray'r,
And close to the door held her listening ear.