Through the blazing fields of barley,
When the grain was in the ear,
Jesus led a group of students,
In the autumn of the year,
Up the thronging, noisy roadway,
Till they reached a quiet home,
Where the little children gathered,
When they saw the loved one come.
There he sat and called his followers,
Called them to him every one—
What was it that they disputed
'Neath the evening's glowing sun?
Heedless of the lilies' sweetness
Pouring forth at close of day,
Each had claimed to be the greatest,
As they loitered by the way.
Then upon them all fell silence,
There was none who dared to speak,
For they knew the Master's teaching
Glowed with blessings for the meek.
Not for place, and not for power,
Had he called his chosen band,
But that they might bear his message
Faithfully to every land.
Little children pressing round him,
Knew no fears nor false alarms,
Conscious of his great compassion
One had nestled in his arms.
Thus he glorified the humble,
Childlike thought from envy free:
Whoso shall receive the children
In my name, receiveth me.
