Jesus little children blessed;
Blest in innocence they are; Little children, thus caressed,
Praise him in your infant prayer!
"LET them come, the little children,
To my fold and to my breast,"
Said the gentle, loving Saviour,
As the children round him pressed.
May we come, all false and sinning,
With our passions all aglow?
Did he welcome thus the children?
Would he meet and bless us so ?
He can help us in our passion, –
Teach us how to turn away
From the power of each temptation
That would lead our lives astray.
But to have his smile and favor, -
To be called the Saviour's own,
We must all be true and tender,
Seeking, loving good alone.
Help us, help us, gentle Jesus!
We are very weak and small;
Stand between us and the evil;
Guide us through and over all.
We will struggle daily, hourly,
That we may by thee be blest:
To thy fold O let us enter!
Take us to thy loving breast.
WHEN, for some little insult given,
My angry passions rise,
I'll think how Jesus came from heaven,
And bore his injuries.
He was insulted every day,
Though all his words were kind;
But nothing men could do or say
Disturbed his heavenly mind.
Not all the wicked scoffs he heard,
Against the truths he taught,
Excited one reviling word,
Or one revengeful thought.
And when upon the cross he bled,
With all his foes in view,
"Father, forgive their sins," he said;
"They know not what they do."
Dear Jesus, may I learn of thee
My temper to amend ;
And speak the pardoning word for me,
Whenever I offend.
FEEBLE, helpless, how shall I
Learn to live, and learn to die?
Who, O God! my guide shall be ?
Who shall lead thy child to thee?
Blessed Father, gracious one!
Thou hast sent thy holy Son;
He will give the light I need,
He my trembling steps will lead.
Through this world, uncertain, dim,
Let me ever lean on him;
From his precepts wisdom draw,
Make his life my solemn law.
Thus in deed, and thought, and word,
Led by Jesus Christ the Lord,
In my weakness, thus shall I
Learn to live, and learn to die;
Learn to live in peace and love,
Like the perfect ones above;
Learn to die without a fear,
Feeling thee, my Father, near.
HEAR ye not a voice from heaven,
To the listening spirit given?
"Children, come!" it seems to say,
"Give your hearts to me me to-day."
Sweet as is a mother's love,
Tender as the heavenly Dove,
Thus it speaks a Saviour's charms,
Thus it wins us to his arms.
Lord, may we remember thee,
While from pain and sorrow free;
While our day is in its dew,
And the clouds of life are few.
Then, when night and age appear,
Thou wilt chase each doubt and fear;
Thou our glorious leader be,
When the stars shall fade and flee.
Now to thee, O Lord! we come,
In our morning's early bloom;
Breathe on us thy grace divine,
Touch our hearts, and make them thine.
SHEPHERD of Israel, hear my prayer,
And to my cry give heed;
Shepherd of Israel, lead me where
Thy flocks in safety feed.
Whether upon the barren hills,
Or on the desert bare,
Strike but thy rod, the purest rills
And greenest herbs are there.
The shadow of a mighty rock
Is in that weary land,
And heavenly dews fall on the flock
Protected by thy hand.
|