Cecil Frances Alexander quotes:

He guides us into pastures green, He leads to bowers of bliss, Our Father lives, the God unseen, and Christ our Shepherd is.

He gave us eyes to see them, And lips that we might tell How great is God Almighty, Who has made all things well.

Christian children all must be Mild, obedient, good as He. . . . . For He is our childhood's pattern, Day by day like us He grew, He was little, weak, and helpless, Tears and smiles like us He knew; And He feeleth for our sadness, And He shareth in our gladness.

Once in royal David's city Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a Mother laid her Baby In a manger for His bed: Mary was that Mother mild Jesus Christ her little Child . . . With the poor, and mean, and lowly, Lived on earth our Savior Holy.

Souls in heathen darkness lying, where no light has broken through, souls that Jesus bought by dying, whom his soul in travail knew.... Haste, o haste and spread the tidings, let no shore be left untrod, no lost brother's bitter chidings haunt us from the further sod; tell the heathen all the precious truths of God.

Do no sinful action, speak no angry word; ye belong to Jesus, children of the Lord.

Praise Him early, praise Him late, for our high and holy state; born, baptized, redeem'd forever, nought but sin our souls can sever from the Saviour who has bought us, from the Spirit who has taught us. Lord! renew us day by day, never let us fall away.

Christian children all must be mild, obedient, good as He.

There is a green hill far away, Without a city wall, Where the dear Lord was crucified, Who died to save us all.

The rich man in his castle, The poor man at his gate, God made them, high or lowly, And order'd their estate.

God hath his mysteries of grace, Ways that we cannot tell, He hides them deep, like the secret sleep Of him he loved so well.

How rarely boyhood loves to paint in glowing tints his future bright, a picture where no line is faint--whose very clouds are touch'd with light. And girlhood hails a world unknown and reads it in her own glad dreams, as lilies see themselves alone reflected in their azure streams. But rosy clouds that morning brings, ere noon may deepen into thunder--and life's dark stream has sterner things than silver lilies growing under.

We praise Thee, Lord, of all the earth, for love and joy, for light and mirth, for every charm of sense and right, and blessings boundless as Thy might.... But most we praise the love that gave thine own dear Son to seek and save, for joy all other joys excelling, for purest light and life indwelling.

All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God made them all.

When the friends we love the best Lie in their churchyard bed, We must not cry too bitterly Over the happy dead.

We are but little children weak Nor born in any high estate. . . . . There's not a child so small and weak But has his little cross to take, His little work of love and praise That he may do for Jesus' sake.