It wasn’t a bit priggish, the way he said it,—just simple, and wistful, and very sweet.
So I took him in my arms in the big rocking-chair and sang all the heaven hymns I know. First, “There’s a Home for Little Children,” then “Jerusalem the Golden,” and,
“I heard a sound of voices
Around the great white throne,
With harpers harping on their harps
To Him that sits thereon.”
When I came to that last beautiful verse,
“O Lamb of God Who reignest!
Thou Bright and Morning Star,
Whose glory lightens that new earth