Our Gift

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Our Gift?by Teachers of the School Street Universalist Sunday School, Boston
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Title: Our Gift
Author: Teachers of the School Street Universalist Sunday School, Boston
Release Date: January 28, 2004 [EBook #10853]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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FROM THE LIBRARY OF
PAUL & VIRGINIA CROWLEY
OUR GIFT.
BOSTON:
ABEL TOMPKINS, NO. 38 CORNHILL.
1851.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1850,
By ABEL TOMPKINS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
DEDICATION.
"We offer no words of inspired thought,?No gems from the mines of wisdom brought,?No flowers of language to deck the page,?No borrowed glories of Muse or Sage;?But an offering simple and pure we bring,?And a wreath of wild roses around it fling;?Not culled from the shades of enamelled bowers,?But watered by love's own gentle showers.?In tones of affection we here would speak;?To waken an echo of love we seek;?We mingle our tears for the early dead,?To the land of spirits before us fled.?While a moral we humbly would here entwine?With the flowers we lay on affection's shrine,?We pray that the light of religion may dawn,?To brighten our pathway each coming morn.?Then with love for each other OUR GIFT we bring,?And love for the memories that round it cling,?And trust in the hopes that are lighted here,?To burn with new brightness each passing year.?And as Time moves on with unceasing tread,?And the flowers of youth are withered and dead,?May no sigh of regret to the past be given,?As it peacefully fades in the light of Heaven."
PREFACE.
"OUR GIFT" has been prepared as a token of affection for our Sunday school Pupils, and it is hoped that it may serve a similar purpose in the hands of other teachers. It has been said, that "_He who gives his thought, gives a part of himself_." It was this idea that suggested the offering we now bring. We do not claim for it especial excellence. We are aware that its pages have not uniform merit. When we state that they are from the pens of twenty-five different teachers, few of whom are accustomed to write for the public eye, we offer the only apology for the imperfections of the work, which, in our judgment, the circumstances of the case demand. If this explanation shall not cause the critic to throw the work aside, we would welcome him to whatever pleasure he may find in its perusal. Of the defects which it contains, we prefer to share jointly the responsibility; and have, therefore, omitted to attach signatures to the several articles. The shorter paragraphs, scattered through the work, embody ideas from several contributions which have been excluded by its narrow limits. Such as it is, we present it to the public generally, and especially to our pupils, as a slight token of the ardent love we bear them, humbly praying that the moral lessons it contains may find a place in their hearts, and contribute to the formation of such a character as involves within itself the highest form of blessing.
TEACHERS OF THE SCHOOL STREET UNIVERSALIST SUNDAY SCHOOL, BOSTON.
CONTENTS.
Dedication?Preface?Remember me?Honor thy Parents?Uncharitable Judgment?Boys become Men?To the Portrait of Father Ballou?Susan's Repentance and Appeal to her Elder Sister?Little Emma?The Old Sabbath Schoolroom?The Hunter, and his Dog Jowler--A Fable?Take Care of your Books?My Niece?Teachers' Library?Scholars' Library?Agatha?Responsibility?Duty of Parents?A Scholar's Remembrance of the Pic-Nic of 1850?Rain Drops?Obey the Rules?The Ways of Providence?To Alberta?The Discontented Squirrel--A Fable?School Street Society?The Example of the Bee?The Morning Walk?True Satisfaction?Female Education?One Family?Summer Thoughts--A Fable?A Talk with the Children?Uncle Jimmy?The Child's Dream of Heaven?The Influence of Sabbath Schools?Memory?Selfishness?Trouble?Revenge?A Biographical Sketch?The Sabbath School Boys?Fear of Death?Ill Temper?Reading?A Sabbath School Excursion?Christ and Duty
OUR GIFT.
"REMEMBER ME."
"Remember me!" How swift the tide?Of memory glideth o'er the past;?Those sunny hours so quickly sped,?Perchance a few with clouds o'ercast.?But memory hath more lasting flowers,?Which Time's rude hand can ne'er efface,?The sweets we cull from friendship's bowers,?The gems affection's altar grace.
"Remember me!" In youth's bright morn?Those simple words so lightly spoken,?Far into future years may reach,?And wake a spell which ne'er is broken.?A star to gleam in Memory's sky,?A line on Memory's page to glow,?A smile to offer at her shrine,?Or tears which from her springs shall flow.
"Remember me!" As one by one?The cherished ties of earth are torn,?The magic spell which Memory weaves,?Shall long in kindred hearts be worn.?And when the last farewell is said,?A solace to each heart shall be?The memory of that love which spoke?In