WRITTEN FOR A SABBATH SCHOOL PIC-NIC.
Our dear Lord Jesus, thou didst call
Young children once to thee—
Didst hold them in thy loving arms,
And bless them tenderly;—
Now, like those children, let us come
And gather round thy knee.
Oh teach us that God dwelleth here—
These woods his leafy shrines—
That incense rises from the flowers,
And fragrant swinging vines,
And wordless psalms swell up from out
The solemn sounding pines.
Oh teach us to behold where'er
Our joyous footsteps rove,
The emblems of a Father's care
And tokens of his love—
In sunshine smiling on the sward,
In clouds that brood above.
His glory in the golden morn,
His peace in noon's repose,
His goodness in the twilight shades
That softly round us close—
"The beauty of his holiness"
In every wilding rose.
Oh hear our hymn and bless our feast,
And smile upon our play—
Oh fill our hearts with thy dear love,
And keep us glad and gay,
And sinless as the little birds,
Throughout this summer day.