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How touching 't is to see him clasp his dimpled hands in prayer,
And raise his little rosy face with reverential air!
How simple is his eloquence! how soft his accents fall
When pleading, with the King of kings to love and bless us all;
And when from prayer he bounds away in innocence and joy,
The blessing of a smiling God goes with the sinless boy;
A little lambkin of the flock, within the Savior's fold,
Is he my lovely step-son, that's only five years old.
And raise his little rosy face with reverential air!
How simple is his eloquence! how soft his accents fall
When pleading, with the King of kings to love and bless us all;
And when from prayer he bounds away in innocence and joy,
The blessing of a smiling God goes with the sinless boy;
A little lambkin of the flock, within the Savior's fold,
Is he my lovely step-son, that's only five years old.
I have not told you of our home, that in the summer hours,
Stands in its simple modesty half hid among the flowers;
I have not said a single word about our mines of wealth—
Our treasures are this little boy, contentment, peace and health;
For even a lordly hall to us would be a voiceless place
Without the gush of his glad voice, the gleams of his bright face:
And many a courtly pair, I ween, would give their gems and gold
For a noble happy boy like ours, some four or five years old.
Stands in its simple modesty half hid among the flowers;
I have not said a single word about our mines of wealth—
Our treasures are this little boy, contentment, peace and health;
For even a lordly hall to us would be a voiceless place
Without the gush of his glad voice, the gleams of his bright face:
And many a courtly pair, I ween, would give their gems and gold
For a noble happy boy like ours, some four or five years old.
