A heart with noble motives—a heart that God has blest—
May be beatin' Heaven's music 'neath that faded coat and vest.
I'm old—I may be childish—but I love simplicity;
I love to see it shinin' in a Christian's piety.
Jesus told us in His sermons in Judea's mountains wild,
He that wants to go to Heaven must be like a little child.
Our heads are growin' gray, dear wife; our hearts are beatin' slow;
In a little while the Master will call us for to go.
When we reach the pearly gateways, and look in with joyful eyes,
We'll see no stylish worship in the temple of the skies.