THE PENITENT CHILD.
[[Listen]]
THE PENITENT CHILD.
A long time ago, when Janett was a child,
As thoughtless as others, as giddy and wild;
She was sent by her mistress one evening so fair,
Where a family circle were kneeling in prayer.
Her young heart was then touch'd, she would afterwards say—
"O! that my dear master but knew how to pray;"
For she had no father to pray for her soul,
No mother to counsel, advise, or control.
One night as the snows drifted deep through the vale,
While the bleak whistling wind was all dreary and chill,
She again sought the house where she first heard a pray'r,
And close to the door held her listening ear.
She heard, as the story of Jesus was read,
How he suffer'd below, how for sinners he bled;
Tears fell from her eyes like the drops of a show'r,
Till sobbings of anguish were heard at the door.
That night did the Lord, by his Spirit, impart,
To the penitent child a conversion of heart;
Then happy was she, though an orphan and poor,
And she never forgot how she knelt at the door.
B.
