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MY FATHER'S AT THE HELM.
A little boat assail'd;
O’er all on board prevailed-
Who steadfast viewed the storm;
At danger's threatening form.
"And sport'st thou thus,” a seaman cried,
“While terrors overwhelm ?” “Why should I fear?” the boy replied,
“My father's at the helm !”
So when our worldly all is reft
Our earthly helper gone,
God helps, and He alone.
He to our prayers will bend an ear,
He gives our pangs relief;
To joy each torturing grief.
Then turn to Him, ʼmid sorrows wild,
When want and woes o’erwhelm; Remembering, like the fearless child,
Our Father's at the helm.
TO THE ROBIN.
And see thee when thou'st had thy fill,
MARY ANN'S CHILD. MARY ANN was alone with her baby in arms,
In her house with the trees overhead, For her husband was out in the night and the storms,
In his business a-toiling for bread; And she, as the wind in the elm-heads did roar, Did grieve to think he was all night out of door. And her kinsfolk and neighbours did say of her child,
(Under the lofty elm-tree),
Up a-top of a proud mother's knee;
(Under the gloomy elm-tree),
Of a truth what his ailing could be ; And she thought on him last in her prayers at night, And she look'd at him last as she put out the light. And she found him grow worse in the dead of the night,
(Under the gloomy elm-tree), And she press'd him against her warm bosom so tight,
And she rock'd him so sorrowfully; And there in his anguish a-nestling he lay, Till his struggles grew weak, and his cries died away. And the moon was a-shining down into the place
(Under the gloomy elm-tree), And his mother could see that his lips and his face
Were as white as clean ashes could be; .. And her tongue was a-tied, and her still heart did swell Till her senses came back with the first tear that fell.
Never more can she feel his warm face in her breast
(Under the leafy elm-tree),
And he's now from his pain a-set free,
THE SANDS O' DEE.
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And all alone went she.
And o'er and o’er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
And never home came she.
A tress o golden hair,
O’drowned maiden's hair,
Among the stakes o’Dee.
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
THE FOUNTAIN. Into the sunshine,
Full of light, Leaping and flashing
From morn till night. . Into the moonlight
Whiter than snow, Waving so flower-like,
When the winds blow! Into the starlight,
Rushing in spray, Happy at midnight,
Happy by day! Ever in motion,
Blithesome and cheery, Still climbing leavenward,
Never aweary; Glad of all weathers,
Still seeming best, Upward or downward,
Motion thy rest; Full of a nature
Nothing can tame, Changed every moment-
Ever the same; Ceaseless aspiring,
Ceaseless content, Darkness or sunshine
Let my heart be
THE MYSTERIES OF PROVIDENCE.
His wonders to perform;
And rides upon the storm.
Of never-failing skill,
And works His sovereign will.
The clouds you so much dread
In blessings on your head.
But trust Him for His grace;
He hides a smiling face.
Unfolding every hour;
But sweet will be the flower.
And scan His work in vain;
THE THREE FISHERS.
Away to the west as the sun went down;
And the children stood watching them out of the town;
Though the harbour bar be moaning Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,
And they trimn’d the lamps as the sun went down; They look'd at the squall, and they look'd at the shower,
And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown.