orn
No tired ox moans,
No creaking wheel groans,
At rest is the plough;
No noise is heard now,
Save the sound of the rustling corn.

The Sabbath is here; our seed we have sown
In hope and in faith;
The Father he saith
Amen! Be it so!
Behold the corn grow!
Rejoicing his goodness we'll own.

The Sabbath is here; His love we will sing
Who sendeth the rain
Upon the young grain.
And soon all around
The sickle will sound.
And home the bright sheaves we will bring.

The Sabbath is here; in hope and in love
We sow in the dust,
While humbly we trust
Up yonder shall grow
The seed which we sow,
And bloom a bright garland above.

THE CHILD AT HER MOTHER'S GRAVE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.

In that little room of thine,
Sweet sleep has come to thee;
Ah, mother! dearest mother mine!
O, call me to that room of thine!
O, shut it not from me!

I would so gladly be with thee,
And be thy child again;
'Tis cold and stormy here with me,
'Tis warm, and, O, so still with thee!
Ah! let me, let me in!

Thou took'st me gladly once with thee,
So gladly held my hand;
O, see, thou hast forsaken me!
Take me this time again with thee
Into the heavenly land.

CHILD'S SONG.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.

When at night I go to sleep,
Fourteen angels are at hand;--
Two on my right their watches keep;
Two on my left to bless me stand;
Two hover gently o'er my head;
Two guard the foot of my small bed;
Two wake me with the sun's first ray;
Two dress me nicely every day;
Two guide me on the heavenly road,
That leads to paradise and God.

TO A FOUNTAIN.

FROM THE GERMAN OF RAMLER.

Lo! this fount is flowing ever;
But the fountain prattles never.
Traveller! at this fountain stay;
Learn of it, with pure endeavour,
Good to do, and nothing say.

SONG FOR AN INFANT SCHOOL.

Children go
To and fro,
In a merry, pretty row,
Footsteps light,
Faces bright;
'Tis a happy sight.
Swiftly turning round and round,
Do not look upon the ground.
Follow me,
Full of glee,
Singing merrily.