Y
Yours
Guest
Overshadowed by the willow,
Near a rippling, silver stream,
Alvah has a grassy pillow :
Sweet his slumber, bright his dream!
Well may he in peace surrender
To the balmy power of sleep !
O'er a heart so warm and tender,
Angel eyes their vigils keep.
He beheld a faint wayfarer,
Old and feeble, poor and lone ;
Who appeared to have no sharer
In the woes himself must own.
Sitting on the bank that edges
Brightly this meandering brook
With a fringe of flowers and sedges,
He 7d a needy, suffering look.
Alvah viewed him, filled with pity ;
And resolved to lend him aid ;
Though from home in yonder city,
Far for wild-flowers he had strayed.
Quick he thought, his little treasure,
Given to him, and laid aside
His bright coins to purchase pleasure
Now might wisely be applied.
Home he ran, to seek and take them,
Out of breath, with moistened brow ;
Thinking he could never make them
Surer means of good than now.
Swift upon his way returning,
Over fen and field he ran,
Till, with feet and forehead burning,
He rejoined the poor old man.
Here, his little gift bestowing,
While a joy is in his ******
Worthy of an angel's knowing,
On the turf he sinks to rest.
Joy, too long a stranger seeming
In the wanderer's hollow eye,
Speaks his thanks, through tear-drops beaming,
While his words in utterance die.
There he sits, beside the sleeper,
Asking God's peculiar care
Blessings, and a Heavenly keeper,
For a child so good and fair.
Angel guards may thus assuming
Forms of humble souls below
Shroud their own, too bright and blooming
To a mortal eye to show.
Oft does He, " the King of Glory"-
Once " the Man of Sorrows ' thus,
In the poor repeat his story,
And the tale of Lazarus.
Now, with pleasure pure and holy,
He regards this peaceful child,
Pillowed on a bed so lowly
Slumbering 'mid the flowerets wild.
kidsworldfun
Near a rippling, silver stream,
Alvah has a grassy pillow :
Sweet his slumber, bright his dream!
Well may he in peace surrender
To the balmy power of sleep !
O'er a heart so warm and tender,
Angel eyes their vigils keep.
He beheld a faint wayfarer,
Old and feeble, poor and lone ;
Who appeared to have no sharer
In the woes himself must own.
Sitting on the bank that edges
Brightly this meandering brook
With a fringe of flowers and sedges,
He 7d a needy, suffering look.
Alvah viewed him, filled with pity ;
And resolved to lend him aid ;
Though from home in yonder city,
Far for wild-flowers he had strayed.
Quick he thought, his little treasure,
Given to him, and laid aside
His bright coins to purchase pleasure
Now might wisely be applied.
Home he ran, to seek and take them,
Out of breath, with moistened brow ;
Thinking he could never make them
Surer means of good than now.
Swift upon his way returning,
Over fen and field he ran,
Till, with feet and forehead burning,
He rejoined the poor old man.
Here, his little gift bestowing,
While a joy is in his ******
Worthy of an angel's knowing,
On the turf he sinks to rest.
Joy, too long a stranger seeming
In the wanderer's hollow eye,
Speaks his thanks, through tear-drops beaming,
While his words in utterance die.
There he sits, beside the sleeper,
Asking God's peculiar care
Blessings, and a Heavenly keeper,
For a child so good and fair.
Angel guards may thus assuming
Forms of humble souls below
Shroud their own, too bright and blooming
To a mortal eye to show.
Oft does He, " the King of Glory"-
Once " the Man of Sorrows ' thus,
In the poor repeat his story,
And the tale of Lazarus.
Now, with pleasure pure and holy,
He regards this peaceful child,
Pillowed on a bed so lowly
Slumbering 'mid the flowerets wild.
kidsworldfun