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So I’ll bid these sweet roses adieu!

Now, Rover,” said Ella, “we’re ready to play,

And I will be happy with you.”

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No little girl

More bright and gay,

Or happier

Than Ida May

As she ran off

To school one day,

And passed the store

Of Mr. Gray,

Where, near the door,

Some ripe plums lay,

And Satan whispered,

Ida May—

Take but one plum,

Then run away;

You’ll not be seen

By Mr. Gray.

Oh, had she thought

One prayer to say,

She’d not have sinned,

Poor Ida May!

She caught one up,

Then ran away,

And was not seen

By Mr. Gray.

Ah, sinful child,

To disobey

The Word of God—

Hear, Ida May!

“Thou shalt not steal!”

Now hear Him say,

And you have stolen

From Mr. Gray.

The voice of God

Will you obey?

It whispers now,

Stop! Ida May,—

’Tis not too late,

Go back, you may

Return the plum

To Mr. Gray.

Then lift your heart

To God, and pray,

“Forgive the sin

Of Ida May.”

That still, small voice

She did obey,

And ran with haste

To Mr. Gray,

And told him all