I THINK WHEN

I think when, 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 arms had been thrown around me,

and that I might have seen His kind look when He said,

‘Let little children come unto Me.’




Yet still to His footstool in prayer I may go,

and ask for a share of His love;

and, if I now earnestly seek Him below,

I shall see Him and hear Him

in that beautiful place He has gone to prepare

for all who are washed and forgiven;

and many dear children are gathering there,

for of such is the kingdom of heaven.




But thousands and thousands who wander and fall

never heard of that heavenly home;

I should like them to know there is room for them all,

and that Jesus has bid them to come.

I long for the joy of that glorious day,

the fairest and brightest and best,

when the dear little children of every cline,

shall crowd to His arms and be blest. ......