The First Hymn.

A poem 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.

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