Sigourney.
THE BIRTH-DAY OF THE FIRST BORN.
Thy first born's birth-day,--mother!--
That cold and wintry time,
When deep and unimagined joy
Swell'd to its highest prime.--
Thy little daughter smileth,--
Thy son is fair to see,--
And from its cradle shouts the babe,
In health and jollity:
But still thy brow is shaded,
The fresh tear trickleth free,
Where is thy first born darling?
Oh, mother,--where is she?
And if she be in heaven,
She, who with goodness fraught,
So early on her Father--God
Repos'd her bursting thought:--
And if she be in heaven,
The honor how divine,
To give an angel to His arms,
Who gave a babe to thine!
L. H. S.
* * * * *
Human improvement must begin through mothers. It is through them
principally, as far as human agency is concerned, that those evils can
be _prevented_, which, age after age, we have been vainly endeavoring to
_cure_.
* * * * *
He that is good will infallibly become better, and he that is bad will
as certainly become worse; vice, virtue, and time, are three things that
never stand still.
* * * * *
Original.
SABBATH MEDITATIONS.
John 5:1.
It is a time of solemnities in Jerusalem--"a feast of the Jews"--and
crowds throng the sacred city, gathered from all parts of Judea,
mingling sympathies and uniting in the delightful services which the
chosen people so justly prize.
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