I waited till the child was done,
Still listening as he prayed;
And when he rose, I asked him why
The Lord’s Prayer he had said.
“Why, sir,” said he, “this morning, when
My mother went away,
She wept because, she said, she had
No bread for us to-day.
“She said, we children now must starve,
Our father being dead;
And then I told her not to cry,
For I could get some bread.
“Our Father, sir, the prayer begins,
Which makes me think that He,
As we have got no father here,
Would our kind father be.
“And then, you know, the prayer, sir, too,
Asks God for bread each day;
So, in the corner, sir, I went,
And that’s what made me pray.”
I quickly left that wretched room,
And went with fleeting feet;
And very soon was back again
With food enough to eat.
“I thought God heard me,” said the boy;
I answered with a nod;
I could not speak; but much I thought
Of that child’s faith in God.
TRUE REST.
Sweet is the pleasure
Itself cannot spoil!
Is not true leisure
One with true toil?
Thou, that would taste it,
Still do thy best;
Use it, not waste it,
Else, ’tis no rest.
Wouldst behold beauty
Near thee, all round?
Only hath duty
Such a sight found.