How happy are those Little ones Whose parents fear the Lord, And shew their daughters and their sons The treasures of his Word! Instructed, not at school alone, But at their home beside, With quicker pace they travel on, And never want a guide. I know that scripture tells me true, There is a place of woe (My parents! I am pain'd for you) To which the careless go. O Lord, who causest Babes to see, And lead'st the ancient blind, Their case, who being gave to me, Sits heavy on my mind. Must we and shall we, when the date Of this short life is o'er Be fixt in such a diff'rent state, And meet in love no more? Forbid it, Lord! and change a pray'r In trembling hope preferr'd, To praise and thanks for saving care And supplication heard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A CHILD by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE FEILIRE OF ADAMNAN by ADAMNAN THE RIVER IN THE MEADOWS by LEONIE ADAMS THE MAID VAR MY BRIDE by WILLIAM BARNES THE HUNTER'S SONG by WILLIAM BASSE EPITAPH ON DIOPHANTUS by JAMES HAY BEATTIE FATHERHOOD by HENRY CHARLES BEECHING |