Oh let the dear children come to me,
For of such my kingdom is made.
The pure and the sweet and the trustful!
Let never a frown throw a shade
Of doubt or darkness in their way; —
'T is theirs to blossom in Good's day.
How blessed to be early taught
To drink in Life and Truth and Love,—
Life that is ever flowing free,
From the immortal Fount above.
The good, the true, the beautiful,
Ingrafted in their thoughts grow strong;
Material sense, false error's claim,
Must weaken, and give place, ere long,
To Truth's pure light, whose clear, bright lay
Unveils the harmonies of day.
Oh God, we for those children pray:
Encircle them in Love alway!
Guide their young thought in peaceful flow
To realms where Spirit lends a glow,
Enchanting more than lower sense
Of folly's ways, material, dense,
That lure today, tomorrow cloy,—
Illusions all, not real joy.
