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Isaac Watts. (1674–1748) (continued)

3257

    But, children, you should never let
  Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
  To tear each other’s eyes.

Divine Songs. Song xvi.

3258

    Birds in their little nests agree;
  And ’t is a shameful sight
When children of one family
  Fall out, and chide, and fight.

Divine Songs. Song xvii.

3259

    How doth the little busy bee
  Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
  From every opening flower!

Divine Songs. Song xx.

3260

For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do.

Divine Songs. Song xx.

3261

In books, or work, or healthful play.

Divine Songs. Song xx.

3262

I have been there, and still would go;
’T is like a little heaven below.

Divine Songs. Song xxviii.

3263

    Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber!
  Holy angels guard thy bed!
Heavenly blessings without number
  Gently falling on thy head.

A Cradle Hymn.

3264

’T is the voice of the sluggard; I heard him complain,
“You have wak’d me too soon, I must slumber again.”

The Sluggard.

3265

Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high.

Psalm v.

3266

From all who dwell below the skies
Let the Creator’s praise arise;
Let the Redeemer’s name be sung
Through every land, by every tongue.

Psalm cxvii.

3267

Fly, like a youthful hart or roe,
Over the hills where spices grow.

Hymns and Spiritual Songs. Book i. Hymn 79.