Songs for the Little Ones at Home

His Father’s will was all his task Within that earthly home, The will forever done in heaven, Whence he so late had come.

Obedient, gentle, loving, meek, He worked at Joseph’s side: Does nothing from that daily toil Through all the years abide?

We scan the wide world o’er, nor find, In any clime or land, One single, sacred, treasured thing Wrought out by Jesus’ hand;

But wheresoe’er a Christian child Does on the earth fulfil With humble, reverent, tender heart, The heavenly Father’s will,

The work, though mean and poor to view, With heavenly grace is fraught, Since age to age it passes on The lesson Jesus taught.

When Father Comes Home

When my father comes home in the evening from work, Then I will get up on his knee, And tell him how many nice lessons I’ve learned, And show him how good I can be.

He’ll ask me what number I know how to count, I’ll tell him what words I can spell; And if I can learn something new every day, I hope soon to read very well.

I’ll repeat to him all the good verses I know, And tell him how kind we must be, That we never must hurt little creatures at all; And he will be glad, and love me.

I’ll tell him we always must try to please God, And never be cruel nor rude, For God is the Father of all living things, He cares for and blesses the good.

’Tis just one week since on my cheek She pressed the parting kiss: It seems like two; I never knew So long a week as this.

My tangled hair she smoothed with care, With water bathed my brow; And all with such a gentle touch-- I wish she’d do it now.

But she will come; she’ll be at home To-morrow night; and then I hope that she will never be So long away again.

For Mother

I give my mother lots of kisses, There’s really never one she misses: A “wake-up kiss” right in the morning, A “good-night kiss” when I am yawning, A “sorry kiss” when I’ve been bad, A “happy kiss” when I am glad. Once she was sick; I went to stay At auntie’s house, oh, miles away! Then I sent kisses in a letter; She said they truly made her better. There’s never really one she misses, Oh, I give mother lots of kisses.

Papa Is Coming

I know he’s coming by this sign,— The baby’s almost wild! See how he laughs and crows and starts-- Heaven bless the merry child! He’s father’s self in face and limb, And father’s heart is strong in him. Shout, baby, shout! and clap thy hands, For father on the threshold stands.

He died, and left no gems or gold: But still I was his heir, For that rich blessing which he gave Became a fortune rare.

Welcome

Welcome, welcome, little stranger, To this busy world of care; Nothing can thy peace endanger, Nothing now thy steps ensnare.

Mother’s heart is filled with pleasure, All her feelings are awake; Gladly would she, little treasure, All thy pains and sufferings take.

Mayest thou, if designed by heaven Future days and years to see, Soothe her, make her passage even; Let her heart rejoice in thee.

May her anxious cares and labors Be repaid by filial love; And thy soul be crowned with favors From the boundless source above.