p. 166THE ORPHAN BOY. p. 166 See that poor, deserted, homeless boy, All lonely, sad, and weary; Nothing to cheer his wee heart to joy, All melancholy dreary. For his heart is heavy, and he sobs; Tear-drops trickle from his eye; As in solitude he sits and throbs, Gay people pass him by. The poor wee boy. No mother has he, so kind and dear, To wipe his big tears away, His heavy heart to gladness cheer, Or soft words of kindness say; No father a home to provide, From the Winter’s chilly blast; But anywhere he may abide,— A deserted, poor outcast. The poor wee boy. p. 167A BRIGHT DAY, AFTER A SEASON OF DULL WEATHER. p. 167 How smiling all the people seem! On every face behold a gleam; Each heart of joy must brimful teem, And thus send forth a cheering beam. The gloomy clouds have passed away, And bright and glorious is the day; The sun gives forth a genial ray, And gentle breezes music play. ’Tis strange—but no more strange than true— That cloudy weather can construe Unto our thoughts a gloomy view, That all things seem of dismal hue. But with a clear, transparent sky, All gloomy thoughts as quickly fly, And bright and happy ones supply Their place, and raise our spirits high. p. 168And thus we in the world shall find The rough and smooth will be combined, Ordained by One who meaneth kind, To brace the firmness of the mind. p. 168 p. 169MUSIC. p. 169 Come, music sweet; come, music, to me here; In softest strains of melody appear; Pour on this wounded heart thy healing balm, Prepared to soothe, and troubled spirits calm. E’er since the time that on this mouldy ball Man held a place, and that before the fall, The youthful world was held in no reserve; For thy enchanting strains did pleasure serve The young creation, and they hailed the sound. But then the Author’s work did all rebound With perfect mirth, and music in it all, Till evil spirits causéd man to fall. But when the fruit was tasted and thought good, First by the woman, then the man, as food, Though the condition was at first
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