49.
INSTRUCTION FROM THE HEAVENS.

STARS, that on your wondrous way, Travel through the evening sky,
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Is there nothing you can say To such a little child as I? Tell me, for I long to know, Who has made you sparkle so?
Yes, methinks I hear you say, Child of mortal race, attend, While we run our wondrous way; Listen; we would be your friend; Teaching you that Name Divine, By whose mighty word we shine.
Child, as truly as we roll Through the dark and distant sky, You have an immortal soul, Born to live when we shall die; Suns and planets pass away; Never can the soul decay.
When some thousands years at most, All their little time have spent, One by one our sparkling host Shall forsake the firmament; We shall from our glory fall; You must live beyond us all.
Yes;—and GOD, who bade us roll, GOD, who hung us in the sky,
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Stoops to watch an infant's soul With a condescending eye; And esteems it dearer far, More in value, than a star!
O then, while your breath is given, Pour it out in fervent prayer, And beseech the God of heaven To receive your spirit there; Like a living star to blaze Ever to your SAVIOUR'S praise."
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