Poems (Barker)/To the Cottage Sabbath School
To the Cottage Sabbath School.
In the pleasant Forest City, Where the sound of busy feet,Hurrying on their various missions, Echoes through the bustling street,Is a quiet place of worship Where the tired soul can findPriceless gems, with costly settings, Jewels to adorn the mind.
See the happy sunshine gather O'er the Superintendent's face,As by loving, childish voices He is welcomed to his place.One among that band of teachers, Seems to hold the golden keyOf the kingdom, as she whispers Jesus' message, "come to me."
Eager rows of smiling faces Raised to meet their pastor's eyesAs he tells them of the glory Waiting them beyond the skies.When his kind hand gently lingers, On some sunny little head.Angels bear with them the blessing, Which his loving lips have said.
See each head in reverence bending, As their pastor kneels to prayFor his Saviour's lambs, the children, Types of innocence are they.Now his voice is gently pleading For one absent from their band,One who in an hour of trouble They had taken by the hand.
Oh! how gentle are his accents! "Lead her, Father, in Thy way,Place Thy loving arms about her. Give her peace and strength each day,Guard her tenderly, dear Father, Fill with happiness her youth,May she be the means of guiding Many others to the truth."
Then his face, by love illumined, Seemed a mirror of his heart,For true prayer and noble greatness Never, never walk apart.Teachers, scholars, all uniting, Lifting up their hearts to God,Keep them from the paths of danger That Thy sinful ones have trod.
Lead them, Father, to Thy mansions, Bright, and fair, and ever blest,Where no sorrow ever cometh, And "the weary ones have rest."Tis the prayer of one who ever Prays for that dear "cottage band,"They, who in an hour of trouble Took her gently by the hand.