But the time is coming when every one of God’s family will know the one great language, and there will be no hard schoolmaster to scold or whip it into them.
L.
WHEN HE WAS TWELVE YEARS OLD.
OUR little lad, our bonnie twelve-year-old,
Has journeyed to the city of the King;
Our happy boy—ere heart could grow a-cold,
Or soul turn bitter—in youth’s joyous spring,
Went up to keep the feast in that bright place,
City of Peace, where restful mansions be;