The Bible Story Part 103

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[Ill.u.s.tration]

MADONNA OF THE ANGELS By Adolph Bouguereau (1825-1905)

"The mother with the Child, Whose tender winning arts Have to His little arms beguiled So many wounded hearts."

--_Matthew Arnold_ [End ill.u.s.tration]

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AN EVENING SONG

And now another day is gone, I'll sing my Maker's praise; My comforts every hour make known His providence and grace.

But how my childhood runs to waste!

My sins, how great their sum!

Lord, give me pardon for the past, And strength for days to come.

I lay my body down to sleep, Let angels guard my head; And, through the hours of darkness, keep Their watch around my bed.

With cheerful heart I close my eyes, Since Thou wilt not remove; And in the morning let me rise, Rejoicing in Thy love.

--_Isaac Watts_.

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THE SLUGGARD

'T is the voice of the Sluggard: I heard him complain, "You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!"

As a door on its hinges, so he on his bed Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

"A little more sleep and a little more slumber!"

Thus he wastes half his days and his hours without number; And when he gets up he sits folding his hands, Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

I pa.s.s'd by his garden and saw the wild brier, The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher; The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags, And his money still wastes, till he starves or he begs.

I made him a visit, still hoping to find He had took better care for improving his mind: He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking; But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me!

That man's but a picture of what I might be; But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding, Who have taught me betimes to love working and reading."

--_Isaac Watts_.

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THE DIVINE SHEPHERD By Murillo (1618-1682) [End ill.u.s.tration]

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PRAISE FOR MERCIES, SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL

Whene'er I take my walks abroad, How many poor I see!

What shall I render to the Lord For all His gifts to me!

Not more than others I deserve, Yet G.o.d hath given me more; For I have food, while others starve, Or beg from door to door.

How many children in the street Half naked I behold!

While I am clothed from head to feet And cover'd from the cold.

While some poor wretches scarce can tell Where they may lay their head, I have a home wherein to dwell, And rest upon my bed.

While others early learn to swear, And curse, and lie, and steal; Lord, I am taught Thy name to fear, And do Thy holy will.

Are these Thy favors, day by day, To me above the rest?

Then let me love Thee more than they, And try to serve Thee best.

--_Isaac Watts_.

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THE ROSE

How fair is the Rose! What a beautiful flower!

The glory of April and May; But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour, And they wither and die in a day.

Yet the Rose has one powerful virtue to boast, Above all the flowers of the field!

When its leaves are all dead and fine colors are lost, Still how sweet a perfume it will yield!

So frail is the youth and the beauty of man, Though they bloom and look gay like the Rose; But all our fond care to preserve them is vain, Time kills them as fast as he goes.

Then I'll not be proud of my youth and my beauty, Since both of them wither and fade; But gain a good name by well doing my duty: This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.

--_Isaac Watts_.

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[Ill.u.s.tration]

MADONNA AND CHILD By Carlo Dolci (1616-1686) [End ill.u.s.tration]

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PRAISE FOR CREATION AND PROVIDENCE

I sing th' Almighty power of G.o.d, That made the mountains rise, That spread the flowing seas abroad, And built the lofty skies.

I sing the wisdom that ordain'd The sun to rule the day; The moon s.h.i.+nes full at His command, And all the stars obey.

I sing the goodness of the Lord, That fill'd the earth with food; He formed the creatures with His word, And then p.r.o.nounced them good.