Another woman bent over a book
With a smile of joy and an intent look,
Till a child came up and jogged her knee,
And said of the book, "Put it down—take me."
Then the mother sighed as she stroked his head,
Saying softly, "I never shall get it read:
But I'll try by loving to learn His will,
And his love into my child instill."
That child went to bed without a sigh,
And will love religion—by and by.