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Yet strengthen'd by his cheering smile,
They gather'd to his arms the while,
And 'mid his bosom's holy shade
Their beauteous heads, confiding laid.
—Children! even now that heavenly Friend
Doth to your weakness condescend;
Yes, still he marks with favoring smile,
Your trusting spirits, free from guile,—
Still, by his gracious Word would guide
Your steps in safety to his side;
Still waits, in tender love to shed
His blessing on your beauteous head.
—Lambs of the flock! with all your charms,
Haste to your glorious Shepherd's arms.
Death of the youngest Child.
"Why is our infant sister's eye
No more with gladness bright?
