THE PRECIOUS REST.

———

BY RICHARD COE, JR.

———

Once on a lovely summer day,

I saw a little child at play,

While in a garden straying—

Till suddenly I heard him say,

“I am tired with playing!”

Then running to his father he

Laid down his head upon his knee,

And slept, oh! how contentedly?

So life is but a summer day,

And man—a little child at play—

While through the world a-straying:

And often, too, we hear him say,

“I am tired with playing!”

Till hast’ning to his Father, he

Lays down his head upon his knee,

And rests, oh! how contentedly!