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COLEMAN'S POEMS.

THOUGHTS OF YOUTH.
In the days that are faded,
I dreamt not that years
Would change all their brightness
To darkness and tears;
But the leaf that is greenest
Will fade on the bough ;
And the days of my childhood,
Oh! where are they now?

As the lute that is given
To gladness alone,

May waken a sigh,

By some memoried tone;
So the hopes of my childhood
All bright though they be,
As memory recalls them,

Brings sadness to me.

SON, GIVE ME THINE HEART.

Give thy young heart to Christ my child,
For he is lowly, kind and mild,

Give thy young heart to Christ who came
To bear thy sorrow, sin and shame.
Give thy young heart to Christ who died,
Thy peace and pardon to provide ;
Give thy young heart to Christ above,
. Who pleads for those he deigns to love.
Give thy young heart to Christ alone,
And let not sin usurp his throne;
Give thy young heart to Christ this day,
Nor lose his blessing by delay.

Lord take this sinful heart of mine,
Cleanse it and make it wholly thine;

Mould it in all its powers afresh,

And turn the heart of stone to flesh.

YOUTHFUL PILGRIMS.

Like mist on the mountain,
Like ships on the sea,
So swiftly the years

Of our pilgrimage flee.
In the graves of our fathers
How soon we shall be,
Dear children to day
To the Saviour fly.

How sweet are the flow'rets
In April and May,
Yet often the frost makes
Them wither away.
Like flowers you may fade,
Are you ready to die?
While yet there is room
To the Saviour fly.

When Samuel was young
And first knew the Lord,
He slept in his smile,

And rejoiced in his word.
So most of God's children
Are early brought nigh;
Oh! seek him in youth-
To the Saviour fly.

Do you ask me for pleasure?
Then lean on his breast,
For there the sin-laden

And weary find rest;
In the valley of death

You will triumphing say,

If this be called dying "Tis pleasant to die.

GOD IS EVERYWHERE.

It was my heavenly Father's love
Brougnt every being forth;
He made the shining worlds above,
And everything on earth.

Each lovely flower, the smallest fly,

The seas, the waterfall,

The bright green leaves, the clear blue sky, 'Tis God that made them all.

He gave me all my friends and taught
My heart to love them well,

He gave to me the powers of thought,
And speech, my thoughts to tell.

God sees and hears me all the day,
And in the darkest night;
He views me when I disobey,
And when I act aright.

He guards me with a parent's care

When I am all alone;

My hymns of praise, my humble prayer, He hears them every one.

ON EARLY PRAYER.

My little boy thy voice is sweet

As sounds of Angels' harps to me, When I thy silvery murmurs greet, And see thee on thy bended knee; I love to see thy folded hands

And fondly mark thine earnest eye, I'm drawn to thee in tenderest bands, While praise at once ascends on high.

My little boy this world abounds

In many a stratagem and snare, Danger our every path surrounds,

Nor e'en the tenderest age will spare ;

Then pray my child to God above,
That every shaft may miss its aim;
His heart a father's heart of love,

Your cry will not be put to shame.

My little boy as years march on,
And childhood ripens into man,
And friends and parents may be gone,
You'll have to struggle while you can ;
For life's a fight, a conflict sore,

A battle stern throughout the way;
Courage you'll need yet more and more,
Then pray my child, yes ever pray.

My little boy we soon may part,
The silver chain be severed wide,
I long to dwell within your heart
Whatever lot may you betide;
Though thousand miles may be between,
God's hand shall keep you day by day,
His eye on you shall rest unseen,
Because to him you early pray.

My little boy my journey here.

With all its toils and fears and woe,
And mercies too how rich and dear
Is hastening to its certain close;
I want to meet you in the sky

When left behind this form of clay;
And taste the bliss that cannot die,
Then pray my child, yes ever pray.

GOD HEARS THE PRAYERS OF CHILDREN.

The Lord attends when children pray,

A whisper he can hear,

He knows not only what we say,

But what we wish to fear.

He views us with a father's love,
And bids us seek his face;
He sends kind answers from above
When children seek his face.

'Tis not enough to bend the knee
And words of prayer to say,
The heart must with the lips agree,
Or else we do not pray.

Teach us O Lord to pray aright,
Thy grace to us impart;

That we in prayers may take delight
And serve thee with the heart.

God hears what I am saying now,
Oh what a wondrous thought!
My heavenly Father teach me how
To love thee as I ought.

DIVINE LOVE.

What lead the Son of God
To leave his throne on high,
To shed his precious blood,
To suffer and to die?

His pure and boundless love to us,
Led him to die, and suffer thus.

What moves him to impart
His spirit from above,

Thereby to fill our heart

With heavenly peace and love?

His pure and boundless love to us,
Moves him to give his spirit thus.

Why are we taught to pray

And read his word of truth,

To keep his holy day,

And serve him in our youth?

His

pure and boundless love to us,

Has raised up friends to teach us thus.

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