I think when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs to His fold,
I should like to have been with Him then.
I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arm had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when
He said, “Let the little ones come unto Me.”
Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go,
And ask for a share in His love;
And all who’re led really to seek Him below,
Will see Him and hear Him above.
A beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children are gathering there,
Of such is the kingdom of heaven.
But thousands and thousands who wander and fall
Ne’er heard of that heavenly home;
’Tis grace can alone them effectually call,
And lead them to Jesus to come.
God speaks of a blessed and glorious time,
The fairest, and brightest, and best,
When all His dear children of every clime
Shall crowd to His arms and be blessed.