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2 You think, if great riches
You had at command,

Your zeal should no weariness know;
You'd scatter your wealth

With a liberal hand,

And succor the children of woe.

CHORUS. Children, do all, etc.

3 But what if you've naught
But a penny to give?

Then give it, though scanty your store;
For those who give nothing

When little they have,
When wealthy will do little more.
CHORUS.-Children, do all, etc.

4 It was not the offering

Of pomp and of power,

It was not the golden bequest
Ah no, 'twas the mite

From the hand of the poor

That Jesus applauded and blessed.

CHORUS.

Children, do all, etc.

5 Then don't be a sluggard

And live at your ease,

And life with vain pleasures beguile;
But ever be active

And busy as bees,

And God on your labors will smile.

CHORUS.

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2 Every little mite,
Every little measure,
Helps to spread the light,
Helps to swell the treasure.
Little drops of rain

Bring the springing flowers;
And I may attain

Much by little powers.

3 God intrusts to all

Talents few or many;
None so young and small
That they have not any.
God will surely ask,

Ere I enter heaven,
Have I done the task
Which to me was given?

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And the reapers

are few

We children are willing,

But what can we do,

To work for our Lord in his harvest?

2 Our hands are so small,

And our words are so weak,

We cannot teach others

How then shall we seek

To work for our Lord in his harvest?
3 We'll work by our prayers,
By the pennies we bring,

By small self-denials

The least little thing

May work for our Lord in his harvest.

4 Until, by and by,

As the years pass, at length
We too may be reapers,

And go forth in strength

To work for our Lord in his harvest.

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III. 3. 8s & 7s.

Music in Parish Hymnal, p. 114.

LITTLE hearts, O Lord, may love Thee;

Little minds may learn thy ways;
Little hands and feet may serve Thee;
Little voices sing thy praise:
Holy Jesus, come and bless us,
Bless us while this hymn we raise.

2 Lo! the Lord's day comes to cheer us;
Truth and love our teachers bring;
Great Redeemer! be Thou near us,
Make us grateful while we sing:
Loving Jesus, come and bless us,
Guard our weakness 'neath thy wing.

3 Little ones, we stand before Thee,
Better may we yearly grow;
Help us ever to adore Thee,

2

All through life thy grace to show;
Then, O Jesus, come and bless us,
Take us home from all below.

Peculiar.

Music in S. S. Chant and Tune Book, p. 38.

HE

ERE we throng to praise the Lord;
Listen now, listen now:

Here we throng to praise the Lord,
With our infant lays.

He who once lay in a manger,
Now enthroned, our blest Redeemer,
With a father's love has said,

He'd accept our praise.

"Let young children come to me,"
Jesus said, Jesus said;

"Let young children come to me,

And forbid them not

For of such," the Saviour told them,
"Is composed the heavenly kingdom."
What a rapturous thought it is,
Christ forgets us not!

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II. GENERAL HYMNS.

I. SCRIPTURES.

IV. 3.

Music in Oriola, p. 189.

THANK God for the Bible! 'tis there that
we find

THA

The story of Christ and his love,

How He came down to earth from his beautiful
home,

In the mansions of glory above ;
Thanks to Him we will bring,
Praise to Him we will sing.

For He came down to earth, etc.

2 While He lived on this earth, to the sick and the blind,

And to mourners his blessings were given;

And He said, Let the little ones come unto me,
For of such is the kingdom of heaven.

Jesus calls us to come,

He's prepared us a home.

For He said, Let the little ones come, etc. 3 In the Bible we read of a beautiful land, Where sorrow and pain never come; For Jesus is there with a heavenly band, And 'tis there He's prepared us a home. Jesus calls, shall we stay?

No! we'll gladly obey.

For Jesus is there with a heavenly band, etc.

4 Thank God for the Bible! its truths o'er the

earth

We'll scatter with a bountiful hand,

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But we never can tell what a Bible is worth,
Till we go to that beautiful land.

There our thanks we will bring,

There with angels we'll sing,

And its worth we can tell, when with Jesus we dwell,

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Music, "Thank God for the Bible," Oriola, p. 189.

HANK God for the flowers, now springing to birth

TH

In beauty so wild and so gay!

For they lift up their sweet smiling eyes from the earth,

And seem in their gladness to say:

"See! the winter is o'er;

We have come back once more;

For the sweet breath of Spring calls us out from the earth,

And the winter has all passed away !"

2 They toil not, they spin not; and yet in his pride
No monarch has robes half so fair ;
For God does their garments of beauty provide,
And keeps them with tenderest care.
And they seem to rejoice

While they lift up their voice

To tell us how God in his goodness provides,
And keeps them with tenderest care.

3. While Winter went forth in his storms and his strife,

They slumbered beneath the cold sod;
But now from their graves into newness of life
They rise at the call of their God.

In their garments of light

They burst forth on the sight;

For they've come from their graves into newness of life,

Awaked at the call of their God.

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