The First Hymn.
By H. P. Nichols
God made the bright, round sun;
He made the pretty flowers;
The little birds, the trees, the clouds
The rain that falls in showers.
He made papa, mamma,
And baby brother, too;
And mother says He looks from Heaven,
And sees each thing I do.
Then I must try to be
Pleasant, and sweet, and mild;
For the good God who made me loves
A kind, obedient child.