Don't tell a lie, dear children, No matter what you do,-- {292} Own up and be a hero, Right honest, brave, and true.
You'd better have a whipping Each day than tell a lie,-- No, not a "white one," even, They lead to blackest dye.
The rod but hurts your body, While lies deform your soul;-- Don't mind the present smarting, Keep the spirit pure and whole.
But I am sure that mamma And papa, too, will try To help you children tell the Truth, Nor drive you to a lie.
They will not punish harshly, Nor when they're angry, quite; Nor promise, and then fail to do,-- But always lead you right.
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_LITTLE MOSES._
In the Talmud you will find it,-- In the quaint and curious lore Of the ancient priests, or Rabbins, Whom the people bowed before;
Find the story of an infant Sitting on the kingly knee; "Little Moses," Pharaoh calls him,-- Crowing loud in baby glee.
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And the banqueters were cheering, When the infant with a spring, Reached and caught the crown that rested Upon Pharaoh's head, as king.
Caught the crown, and quickly placed it On his own unwitting head; But the king and all his princes, In the deed a meaning read.
Then spake Balaam, the magician, "Not because the child is young, Hath he done this thing unknowing;-- He hath mocked thee, he hath flung
"In thy face thy kindly dealings; Such hath ever been the way Of his people; a usurper-- Let his blood be spilled this day."
But the winsome baby-fingers Toying with the kingly beard, Won the edict: "Call the judges; Let their counselings be heard."
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So the judges and the wise men Came with Jethro, Midian's priest, Who, with wish to save young Moses, Thus his majesty addressed:
"If it to the king be pleasing, Fetch two plates, and we will hold Them before the babe, a-brimming, One with fire, and one with gold.
"If the child shall grasp the golden, He hath done this knowingly; He will trample on thy statutes; For thine honor he must die.
"But if he shall grasp the other, Know, O King, he knoweth nought Of a royal crown or scepter,-- And his life with fire is bought."
These wise words, the king approving, Plate of fire and plate of gold, Courtiers brought, and screams of anguish, Soon the childish choosing told.
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For he, baby-like, had thrust it In his mouth; and though he flung Quick the coal, he ever after Spake with slow and stammering tongue.
[Footnote: Exodus IV:10]
Charming 'tis to see Children who agree; Chaste, and choice, and cheery, Chiming in so merry, Childlike, ever; Churlish, never.
Championing the good; Challenging the rude; Chary as the dove; Chief in Jesus' love.
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_THE CHILDREN'S RAILROAD._
Old Time has built a Railroad, On which you children speed To a land of light and plenty, Or a land of darksome need; And soon you'll come to a meadow, Where two tracks mark the way, But they'll run close up alongside For many and many a day.
And one is strewn with roses, While one looks bleak and bare, With now and then a berry-bush, And a violet here and there;--
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On one you'll find companions Who but for pleasure seek, While friends along the other, Will words of wisdom speak.
Be careful in your choosing, For if you take the _Right_, You will travel in the shadow Of the Rock that shields at night; 'T will lead through greenest pastures Where softest brooklets flow, And land you at a Station That is full of cheer and glow.
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On the other track, the roses Are backed by sharpest thorns; While berries always nourish, And the violet but adorns;-- You will stumble into sluices, And what is worse than all, Your self-respect and conscience Grow weak with every fall.
Yes, if you choose the other That looks so bright and gay, You'll find the bridges broken, And the road-bed washed away; And when you near the Station, You'll switch to a fearful leap, That will hurl you into darkness, And bury you in the deep.
But those who choose the Right one Grow manly, womanly, true; God's love-light shines upon them, And falls as heavenly dew;-- They grieve at your wild folly, And will gladly help you back, If at any curve or turning You seek the trusty track.
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But ah! the scars you're wearing, From thorns that pierced you sore,-- {302} And the ditches in which you've fallen, That were strewn with roses o'er;-- And the joys you've lost, unnumbered, That spring from good deeds done; And the fruits you've missed, unmeasured, That by others have been won.
Though friends may be indulgent, And loved ones even forget, Yourself can never banish The memories that beset.
You will wish you had never traveled The way that leads to death; You will wish you had never reveled In the viper's venomed breath.
So beware which track you follow; And again I say, beware!
The _False_ is strewn with roses,-- The _True_ looks bleak and bare; But this, 't is plain, is only That youthful, artless eyes Are open to show and glamour, But see not deep nor wise,
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To Truth then, children, listen, And cultivate the seed That in your hearts God planted, To serve your every need;-- Yes, heed the voice within you, And follow it all the way, For it will help you choose the road That leads to endless day.
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