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 To see if the robins Are waiting below.

And there one dear songster Is sure to be found As soon as his breakfast Is spread on the ground.

THE WIDOW OF ZAREPHATH.

No rain had descended, the fountains were dry, The streamlets no water afford; No clouds, thick and heavy, bespoke a supply, When a voice to Elijah descends from on high, And spoke the commands of the Lord.

Arise, O Elijah! to Zion repair, Awhile in Zarephath remain; A poor widow woman will welcome thee there, To thee of her little a portion will spare, And with food and with water sustain.

The Prophet arose at the heav'nly desire, His steps to Zarephath he bound, When lo! the poor widow in humble attire, And busied with gathering sticks for her fire, At the gates of the city he found.