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| I WOULD I were a child, | |
| That I might look, and laugh, and say, My Father! | |
| And follow Thee with running feet, or rather | |
| Be led through dark and wild! | |
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| How I would hold Thy hand, | 5 |
| My glad eyes often to Thy glory lifting! | |
| Should darkness ’twixt Thy face and mine come drifting, | |
| My heart would but expand. | |
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| If an ill thing came near, | |
| I would but creep within Thy mantle’s folding, | 10 |
| Shut my eyes close, Thy hand yet faster holding, | |
| And soon forget my fear. | |
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| O soul, O soul, rejoice! | |
| Thou art God’s child indeed, for all thy sinning; | |
| A poor weak child, yet His, and worth the winning | 15 |
| With saviour eyes and voice. | |
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| Who spake the words? Didst Thou? | |
| They are too good, even for such a giver: | |
| Such water drinking once, I should feel ever | |
| As I had drunk but now. | 20 |
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| Yet sure the Word said so, | |
| Teaching our lips to cry with His, Our Father! | |
| Telling the tale of him who once did gather | |
| His goods to him, and go! | |
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| Ah, Thou dost lead me, God! | 25 |
| But it is dark and starless, the way dreary; | |
| Almost I sleep, I am so very weary | |
| Upon this rough hill-road. | |
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| Almost! Nay, I do sleep; | |
| There is no darkness save in this my dreaming; | 30 |
| Thy fatherhood above, around, is beaming; | |
| Thy hand my hand doth keep. | |
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| With sighs my soul doth teem; | |
| I have no knowledge but that I am sleeping; | |
| Haunted with lies, my life will fail in weeping; | 35 |
| Wake me from this my dream. | |
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| How long shall heavy night | |
| Deny the day? How long shall this dull sorrow | |
| Say in my heart that never any morrow | |
| Will bring the friendly light? | 40 |
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| Lord, art Thou in the room? | |
| Come near my bed; oh, draw aside the curtain! | |
| A child’s heart would say Father, were it certain | |
| That it would not presume. | |
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| But if this dreary sleep | 45 |
| May not be broken, help Thy helpless sleeper | |
| To rest in Thee; so shall his sleep grow deeper— | |
| For evil dreams too deep. | |
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| Father! I dare at length; | |
| My childhood sure will hold me free from blaming: | 50 |
| Sinful yet hoping, I to Thee come, claiming | |
| Thy tenderness, my strength. | |
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