“My Kingdom.
“A little kingdom I possess,
Where thoughts and feelings dwell;
And very hard I find the task
Of governing it well.
For passion tempts and troubles me,
A wayward will misleads,
And selfishness its shadow casts
On all my words and deeds.
“How can I learn to rule myself,
To be the child I should,
Honest and brave, nor ever tire
Of trying to be good?
How can I keep a sunny soul
To shine along life’s way?
How can I tune my little heart
To sweetly sing all day?
“Dear Father, help me with the love
That casteth out my fear!
Teach me to lean on Thee, and feel
That Thou art very near;
That no temptation is unseen,
No childish grief too small,
Since Thou, with patience infinite,
Doth soothe and comfort all.
“I do not ask for any crown
But that which all may win;
Nor seek to conquer any world
Except the one within.
Be Thou my guide until I find,
Led by a tender hand,
Thy happy kingdom in myself,
And dare to take command.”
“I like that!” said Ben, emphatically, when he had read the little hymn. “I understand it, and I’ll learn it right away. Don’t see how she could make it all come out so nice and pretty.”
“Celia can do anything,” and Thorny gave an all-embracing wave of the hand, which forcibly expressed his firm belief in his sister’s boundless powers.
“I made some poetry once. Bab and Betty thought it was first-rate. I didn’t,” said Ben, moved to confidence by the discovery of Miss Celia’s poetic skill.
“Say it,” commanded Thorny, adding with tact, “I can’t make any to save my life—never could; but I’m fond of it.”
“Chevalita,
Pretty creter,
I do love her
Like a brother;
Just to ride
Is my delight,
For she does not
Kick or bite,”