THE RAINY DAY.
��WHEN the soft summer-shower, whose herald-drops
Stirr'd the broad vine-leaves to an answering joy,
Swells to protracted rain, soothing the mind
With sense of leisure, Mother, haste to call
Thy little flock around thee. Let them hail
The rainy day as one when tender love
Brings forth for them its richest stores of thought.
Think'st thou the needle's thrift, or housewife's lore,
Yields richer payment ? Mother ! thou may'st stamp
Such trace upon the waxen mind, as life,
With all its swelling floods, shall ne'er blot out.
So take thy bright-eyed nursling on thy knee,
And tell him of the God who rules the cloud,
And calms the tempest, and the glorious sun
Brings forth rejoicing from the rosy east
To gild the morn.
Unlock thy treasur'd hoards Of hallow'd lore: how little Samuel heard At midnight, 'neath the temple's solemn arch, Jehovah's voice, and hasted to obey: How young Josiah turned to Israel's God Ere yet eight summers ripened on his brow :
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