CHILDREN’S VERSES.
ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL (Sent by Pan Wilson.) Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight of the room, Making it rich and like a lily in bloom. An angel writing in a book of gold. Exceeding peace bad made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, “What writest thou?” The vision raised its head And, with a look made all of sweet accord, Answered, “The names of those who love the Lord.” “And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay. not so,” Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low. But cheerily still, and said, “I pray thee, then, Write me as one who loves his fellow • men.” The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night he came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed. And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.
A YOUNG BOY OF CAREW. There was a young boy of Carew, Who persistently turned as he grew; Til] he never turned back, So was put on a' rack, Because he looked like a corkscrew 7 1 VERY NATURAL! Oh, when is the weather not nice For rats and for poor little mice? They dread it much more than thickest fogs. Why, when it rains like cats and dogs!
CLEAN DIRT. (Sent by Dorothy Higginson, Whatawhata.) “A pair of dimpled, grimy paws Our lad brings home when through with play, But mother never scolds, because Clean dirt is quickly washed away. “Our barefoot lad brings dusty feet, For he has journeyed far to-day, But mother bathes them pink and SAveet; Clean dirt’s not hard to w'ash aAvay. “God keep the little feet from soli Of evil paths in life, and may ' The hands be stained alone by toil; Clean dirt, like that, will wash aAvay.” FAIRIES. (Sent by Golden Meadows (9) Hamilton.) Our house is full of fairies— I’ve seen them,- so I kno\v, I often sit and watch them, Here in the firelight’s glow.
Our house is full of faries— They troop in at the door, Or fly in at the window, And flit across the floor. THE WISE CHILD. (Sent by Nancy Renolff, Hamilton E.) “Oh, Mummy, you’ve got two grey hairs,” The “imp of mischief” cried.. “Yes, that’s because you’ve been so bad.” The worried mother sighed. The kiddie looked up, knowingly, “If that,” he said, “is right, You must have been a terror” Cos all granny’s'hairs are white.
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Bibliographic details
Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17982, 29 March 1930, Page 4 (Supplement)
Word Count
426CHILDREN’S VERSES. Waikato Times, Volume 107, Issue 17982, 29 March 1930, Page 4 (Supplement)
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