FANNY.
We miss thee on the threshold wide.
Smiling little Fanny!
Thine offered hand was wont to guide
Our footsteps to thy mother's side,
Ready little Fanny!
We miss the welcome of thy face,
Winning little Fanny!
We miss thy bright cheek's rounded grace
Thy clear blue eyes' confiding gaze,
Lovely little Fanny!
We miss thy glowing earnestness,
Guileless little Fanny!
We miss thy clasping arms' caress,
The solace of thy tenderness,
Loving little Fanny!
We miss thy haste at school-time bell,
Docile little Fanny!
Learning with eager face to spell,
Thy Sabbath verses conning well,
Studious little Fanny!
We miss thee at the hour of prayer,
Gentle little Fanny!
Thy sweet low voice and thoughtful air,
Reading God's word with earnest care,
Serious little Fanny!
The hour of play brings woeful dearth,
Merry little Fanny!
With thee the voice of childhood's mirth,
Died from about our twilight hearth,
Joyous little Fanny!
But angels' gain doth our loss prove,
Precious little Fanny!
Now dwelleth with our God above[C]
That little one whose life was love,
Blessed little Fanny!
EMMA.
A floweret on the grassy mound
Of buried hopes sprang up;—
Tears fell upon its bursting leaves
And gemmed its opening cup.
But such a rosy sun-light fell
Upon those tear-drops there,
That no bright crystals of the morn
Such diamond-hues might wear.
No glancing wing of summer-bird
Was ever half so gay
As that fair flower—no insect's hues
Shone with such changeful play.
It nodded gaily to the touch
Of every wandering bee,
Its petals tossed in every breeze,
And scattered odors free.
And they who watched the pleasant plant
In its bright bursting bloom,
Hailed in its growth their bower of rest,—
Solace for years to come.
But He who better knew their need
Laid its fair blossoms low;—
Between their souls and heaven's clear light
Tendril nor leaf might grow.
Then oh! how sad the grassy mounds
Its graceful growth had veiled!—
How sere and faded was their life,
Its fragrance all exhaled;—
Till from the blue o'erarching sky,
A clearer beam was given,
A light that showed them labor here,
And promised joy in heaven.
Original.
GLEANINGS BY THE WAYSIDE. No. 2.
I shall attempt to show by an every-day sort of logic, rather than by any set argument, that young children, when religiously educated, do at a very early age comprehend the being of a God,—that the mind is so constituted that to such prayer is usually an agreeable service,—that in times of sickness or difficulty, or when they have done wrong, they do usually find relief in looking to God for relief and for forgiveness.
I have known quite young children, in a dying state, when their parents have hesitated as to the expediency of referring, in the presence of the child, to the period of dissolution as near, in some paroxysm of distress at once soothed and quieted by the strains of agonizing prayer of the father, that relief might be afforded to the little sufferer, commending it to Jesus.
From my own early experience I cannot but infer that young children do as readily comprehend the sublime doctrine of a superintending providence as the man of gray hairs. We know from reason and revelation that the heavens declare the glory of God, and that the earth showeth forth his handiwork—day unto day utterreth speech, and night unto night showeth forth knowledge of him.