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Sunday Stories



There is a God

There is a God, all nature cries, I see it painted on the skies,

I see it in the flow'ring spring, I see it on the fruitful plain,

I see it stamped on hail and snow, I see it where the streamlets

flow,I see it in the clouds that soar, I hear it when the thunders roar,

I see it when the morning shines, I see it when the day declines,

I see it in the mountain's height, I see it in the smallest mite,

I see it everywhere abroad, I feel I know, there is a God,


Jesus said:

"I am the way and the truth and the life. 
No one comes to the Father but by me."
John chapter 14, verse 6



A collection of fifteen small videos of Sunday Songs especially for

The Children of the World


The English lyrics were first published as a poem with the title "The Star" by sisters Ann and Jane Taylor (1793–1824) in Rhymes for the Nursery in London in 1806. The poem was probably written by Jane. There are five stanzas. The repetition of the first two lines at the end of each verse is not in the original, but is needed to fit the usual melody. Below is the whole text with only the first phrase with the repetition of the first two lines added:




Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!

 *Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!*

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveller in the dark,—
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.


* Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star *

The Butterfly’s Ball and the Grasshopper’s Feast



             William Roscoe published substantial quantities of poetry but much is regarded as rather uninspiring. The exception is the children’s poem The Butterfly’s Ball and the Grasshopper’s Feast which is perhaps Roscoe’s best, most popular and imaginative poem.  He wrote it to placate his young son, Robert, who one evening in 1806 wanted to go with his father to a dinner invitation. It first appeared in The Gentleman’s Magazine in November 1806 and was published, illustrated with coloured drawings by William Mulready, in 1807 by John Harris, owner of the Juvenile Library in London. Two early editions of this poem are on display.

 The poem attracted the attention of George III and the Queen, and was set to music at their request by court composer Sir George Smart for the young princesses Elizabeth, Augusta and Mary.

Come take up your Hats, and away let us haste
To the Butterfly's Ball, and the Grasshopper's Feast.
The Trumpeter, Gad-fly, has summon'd the Crew,
And the Revels are now only waiting for you.

So said little Robert, and pacing along,
His merry Companions came forth in a Throng.
And on the smooth Grass, by the side of a Wood,
Beneath a broad Oak that for Ages had stood,

Saw the Children of Earth, and the Tenants of Air,
For an Evening's Amusement together repair.
And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black,
Who carried the Emmet, his Friend, on his Back.   
And there was the Gnat and the Dragon-fly too,


With all their Relations, Green, Orange, and Blue.
And there came the Moth, with his Plumage of Down,
And the Hornet in Jacket of Yellow and Brown;

Who with him the Wasp, his Companion, did bring,
But they promis'd, that Evening, to lay by their Sting.
And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his Hole,
And brought to the Feast his blind Brother, the Mole.

And the Snail, with his Horns peeping out of his Shell,
Came from a great Distance, the Length of an Ell.    
A Mushroom their Table, and on it was laid
Water-dock Leaf, which a Table-cloth made.


The Viands were various, to each of their Taste,    
And the Bee brought her Honey to crown the Repast.
Then close on his Haunches, so solemn and wise,
The Frog from a Corner, look'd up to the Skies.

And the Squirrel well pleas'd such Diversions to see,
Mounted high over Head, and look'd down from a Tree.
Then out came the Spider, with Finger so fine,
To shew his Dexterity on the tight Line.

From one Branch to another, his Cobwebs he slung,
Then quick as an Arrow he darted along,
But just in the Middle, -- Oh! shocking to tell,
From his Rope, in an Instant, poor Harlequin fell.


Yet he touch'd not the Ground, but with Talons outspread,
Hung suspended in Air, at the End of a Thread,
Then the Grasshopper came with a Jerk and a Spring,
Very long was his Leg, though but short was his Wing;

He took but three Leaps, and was soon out of Sight,
Then chirp'd his own Praises the rest of the Night.
With Step so majestic the Snail did advance,
And promis'd the Gazers a Minuet to dance.

But they all laugh'd so loud that he pull'd in his Head,
And went in his own little Chamber to Bed.
Then, as Evening gave Way to the Shadows of Night,
Their Watchman, the Glow-worm, came out with a Light.


Then Home let us hasten, while yet we can see,
For no Watchman is waiting for you and for me.
So said little Robert, and pacing along,
His merry Companions returned in a Throng.

Follow this link for more exciting and interesting facts about William Roscoe, who not only wrote books and poems but also was a leader in the Anti Slave Trade Campaign.



n the gardens of the

Roses grow in royal state;
Lilies tall and beautiful

We may see, but must not cull.
But along the hedgerow ways,
Modest violets greet our gaze,
And within the meadows wild
Daisies grow for every child.

here are noble deeds and great
We may never emulate;
Heroes fame that travels wide,
While at home we needs must bide.
But about us, close to view,
There are kind acts we may do;
And in gentle hearts and mild,
Graces grow for every child.


I love this wee verse,
 And I am going to place
 It on the Home Pages,
 Of all four of my web sites.



Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly....  --G.K. Chesterton
Angels can fly even though they are well grounded.

Angels can't read music, they wing it.
Angels come in all shapes, sizes and colours.

Angels don't make too much noise when they flap their wings.
Angels don't run away from life, they fly towards it.

Angels don't sing the blues.
Angels dream beautiful visions of the world.

Angels encourage everyone in the right direction...up.
Angels have a hidden agenda....LOVE.

Angels have more meaning than just as characters in stories from the distant past. In fact, they are members of a cast who make appearances in our lives every single day.
Angels hide nothing and see everything.

Angels know how to light the way.
Angels know how to pull the right strings.

Angels like to do what they want, just for the heaven of it.
Angels may not come when you call them, but they'll always be there when you need them.

Angels occupy the loveliest corners of our thoughts.
Angels of a feather, flock together.

Angels often work behind the scenes.
Angels paint with sound and sing with colour.

Angels promote closeness and foster tenderness.
Angels say "halo" to everyone.

Angels stay on top of things.
Angels travel lightly.

Angels walk softly and carry a big presence.
Anyone can be an angel... to you.

Anyone who helps you grow is an angel.

Do not neglect hospitality, for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels. 
-- Hebrews 13:2

This I think is what all people who call themselves the
Children of God should Obey.

"Take not what doesn't belong to you," be it
 Lands - Possessions - Humanity in Life
no one has the right to call themselves
Every Man, Woman and Child were chosen by the Supreme Chosen Ones
to be their children in this life and the next.
.... Seligor 20:12

Here is a Beautiful Sunday Story all the way from Poland

Little BirdThe Legend of the GoldfinchLittle Bird

          When God the Father made our world and covered the ground with lovely carpets of flowers, and made trees to grow into the wonderful temples of forests. He wanted the temples to be filled with music, so He made the birds.

          He made them big and small and gave them different shapes,  and when they were all finished He told them to get into a long line so that they could be painted. So all the big birds stood  first and all the little ones were at the end. Phew, it was such a long line. And there, among the small birds, was one that was very lively - we call him a Goldfinch today. He chirped and hopped and moved to and fro, and could not keep in the line. There was still such a long line of birds to be painted before his turn came.

"I must try my wings foWhen God made our world, He made it so Beautiful.r a while; it is so tiring to stand and wait, " thought the little bird; and he spread his wings and up he flew, up to the little clouds that looked so white and fluffy against the deep blue background of the sky.

      He looked down; how beautiful the world was in its new, fresh loveliness! He flew from tree to tree and meadow to meadow and hill to hill, singing with joy and fluttering in the sunshine. He was so happy in this wonderful world. Suddenly he remembered his coat had not been painted and that he had been away for such a long time. He must hurry back. So he flew as fast as he could, and at last he could see the meadow where the long line of birds had been. But now there were no birds to be seen at all.

          So God took all the little bits of colour....

God had finished his work, and He had packed away his paints and brushes and was washing his hands. The little Goldfinch sat on a tree and sobbed. God heard him weeping and asked what was the matter. So the Goldfinch told how he had flown away to see the beautiful world, and how he was too late to have his coat painted.

     "God saw that he was really sorry, so He said "Come, and I will see what I can do." 

So, joyfully, the Goldfinch flew to Him.  The colours had all been put away, but there were still many little bits of paint on the palette; so God took all the many little scraps and made of them the wonderful coat of many colours that the Goldfinch wears to this day...

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