God made the bright, round sun;

He made the pretty flowers;

The little birds, the trees, the clouds

The rain that falls in showers.

He made papa, mamma,

And baby brother, too;

And mother says He looks from Heaven,

And sees each thing I do.

Then I must try to be

Pleasant, and sweet, and mild;

For the good God who made me loves

A kind, obedient child.

Now again the yellow sun

Shines upon my window-pane;

Now anothor day's begun,

I can laugh and play again.

I must try to-day to be

Kind in all I say and do;

Then will God be pleased with me,

And mamma will love me too.

For she says that God above

Loves to see a little child

Sweet and gentle as the dove,

Like the pretty lamb so mild.

Now the sun hath gone to rest,

Stars are coming faint and dim,

And the bird within his nest

Sweetly sings his evening hymn.

Have I tried mamma to mind?

Was I gentle in my play?

Have I been a true and kind,

Pleasant little girl to-day?

Then will God take care of me

Kindly, through the long dark night;

Bright and happy, I shall see

Once again the morning light.

Why, what a frightful face is this!

And what has happened, sir, amiss?

Come, let me wipe these tears away,

And see no more cross looks to-day.

If Kate did throw your blocks about,

She's very sorry, I've no doubt;

And here she stands to tell you so,

And build another house, I know.

No tears and crying here must be,

So have a pleasant smile for me.

There, that will do,—now run away,

And kindly with your sister play.