HEN AND CHICKENS.

By William Lisle Bowles

See, sister, where the chickens trip,

All busy in the morn!

Look how their heads they dip and dip,

To peck the scattered corn!

Dear sister, shall we shut our eyes,

And to the sight be blind,

Nor think of HIM who food supplies

To us and all mankind?

Whether our wants be much or few,

Or fine or coarse our fare,

To Heaven's protecting care is due

The voice of praise and prayer.