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NEW & IMPROVED SERIES. 
NO. 3O. 



PARTING GIFT. 




GLASGOW : 
,j PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS, 

Price One Halfpenny. 



THE ALPHABET. 

SHALL ROMAN LETTERS. ' 

a b c d e f j 

li i j k 1 m n 

o p q r s t u 

v w x y z 



ROMAN CAPITALS. 



A B C D E F G 

H I J K L M 

N O P Q R S T 

U V W X Y Z 



THE FIGURES. 

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THE 

PARTING GIFT. 



B 




MORNING HYMN. 

Awake, my soul, and with the sun 
Thy daily stage of duty run; 
Shake oft' dull sloth, and early rise 
To pay thy morning sacrifice. 

Let all thy converse be sincere, 

Thy conscience as the noon-day, clear ; 

For God's all-seeing eye surveys 

Thy secret thoughts, thy works, thy ways. 

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow ; 
Praise him all creatures here below ; 
Praise him above, angelic host ; 
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. 



THE PARTING OIFT. 




EVENING HYMN. 
My God, how endless is thy love! 
Thy gifts are ev'ry ev'ning new ; 
And morning mercies from above 
Gently distil like early dew. 

Thou spread'st the curtain of the night, 
Great Guardian of my sleeping hours ; 
Thy sov'reign word restores the light, 
And quickens all my drowsy powers. 

I yield my powers to thy command ; 
To thee I consecrate my days ; 
Perpetual blessings from thine hand 
Demand perpetual songs of praise. 



THE PARTIXG GIFT. 




INDUSTRY. 

How doth the little busy bee 
Improve each shining hour, 

And gather honey all the day, 
From every opening flower ! 

How skilfully she builds her cell ! 

How neat she spreads her wax ! 
And labours hard to store it well 

With the sweet food she makea. 

In works of labour or of skill, 

I would be busy too ; 
For Satan finds some mischief still 

For idle hands to do. 



TUE PARTING GIFT. 




THE ROSE. 
: How fair is the rose! what a beautiful flower, 

The glory of April and May ! 
I But the leaves arc beginning to fade in an hour, 

And they wither and die in a day. 

j Yet the rose has one powerful virtue to boast, 
Above all the flowers of the field : 

| When its leaves are all dead, and fine colours 

are lost, 
Still how sweet a perfume it will yield ! 

j So frail is the youth, and the beauty of man, 
j Though they bloom and look gay like the 

rose; 

| But all our fond care to preserve them is vaiu ; 
Time kills them as fast as he goes. 



THE PARTING GIFT. 7 j 




LINES TO A ROBIN. 

Little bird, with bosom red, 

Welcome to my humble shed ! 

Daily near my table steal, 

While I take my scanty meal. 

Doubt not, little though there be, 

But I'll cast a crumb to thee ; 

Well rewarded if I spy 

Pleasure in thy glancing eye, 

And see thee, when thou'st had thy 11, 

Plume thy breast, and wipe thy bill. 

Come my feathered friend again, 
Well thou know'st the broken pane ; 
Ask of me thy daily store, 
Ever welcome to my door. 



THE PAIITING GIFT. 




READING THE SCRIPTURES. 

The Holy Bible is the Book of God, and 
' all good children read it with attention, and 

follow its precepts ; for it teaches the way to 
heaven where God reigns, and makes his will 

known to us. 

Within this awful volume lies 
The mystery of mysteries ; 
Happiest they of human race, 
To whom their God has given grace 
To read, to fear, to hope, to pray, 
To lift the latch, to force the way ; 
And better had they ne'er been born, 
Than read to doubt, or read to scorn. 



THE PARTING GIFT. 




MY MOTHER. 

Who sat and watch'd my infant head, 
When sleeping on my cradle bed, 
And tears of sweet affection shed ? 

My Mother. 

When pain and sickness made me cry, 
Who gaz'd upon my heavy eye, 
And wept for fear that I should die ? 

My Mother. 

Who ran to help me when I fell, 
And would some pretty story teli, 
Or kiss the place to make it well ? 

My Mother. 



/ 10 THE PARTING GIFT. 

Who taught my infant lips to pray, 
To love God's holy book and day, 
And walk in wisdom's pleasant way ? 

My Mother. 

And can I ever cease to be 
Affectionate and kind to thee, 
Who was so very kind to me? 

My Mother. 

Ah, no! the thought I cannot bear, 
And if God please my life to spare, 
I hope I shall regard thy care, 

My Mother. 

When thou art feeble, old, and grey, 
My healthy arm shall be thy stay, 
And I will soothe thy pains away. 

My Mother. 

And when I see thee hang thy head, 
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed, 
And tears of sweet affection shed, 

My Mother. 



THE PARTING GIFT. 




My God, who makes the sun to know 

His proper hour to rise ; 
And, to give light to all below, 

Doth send him round the skies. 

When from the chambers of the east, 

His morning race begins, 
He never tires, nor stops to rest. 

But round the world he shines. 

So like the sun, would I fulfil 

The business of the day, 
Begin my work betimes, and still 

March on my heavenly way. 



J CHILDREN'S BOOK * 

COLLECTION $ S. 

I * I 

LIBRARY OF THE j 

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LOS ANGELES 



b. Ine .New riciure vraiieiv. 

7. The Juvenile Keepsake. " 

8. Games and Amusements. 
9. The New Riddle Book. 

10. The Little Storyteller. 

1 1 .The Birth-day Present. 

12. jEsop's Fables. 

13. The Book of Trades. 

14. The Juvenile Forget-me-not. 

15. The Anecdote Book. 

Ifi. Costumes of Different Nations. 

17. Natural History of Domestic Animals. 

18. ------ \Vild Animals. 

19. --- Birds, No. i. 

20. ----- No. 2. 
21. The New Year s Gift. 

22. The Budget of Mirth. 
23. The Babes in the Wood. 
24. The History of the Bible. 
25. The Young" Farmer. 
26. The Cries of London. 
27. The House that Jack Built. 
28. Mother Hubbard and her Dog. 
29. Little Red Riding Hood. 
30. The Parting Gift. 

O fliers are in Preparation.