Classic Poem

Beneath these woodland arches dim
To us made holy ground,
Beside the smooth lake's mirrored rim
By mountains girt around, —

With grateful hearts, O God, to thee
From whom his being came,
This little child we dedicate
And in thy Name would name.

May he each year in knowledge grow,
In wisdom and in grace, —
That inmost blessing ever know
Of those who see thy face.

The bounty of the friendly air,
The joy of laughing rills,
The peace o'erbrooding everywhere,
Strength of the lasting hills, —

The beauty sky and earth between,
The spirit of this hour,
Their love who watch, unseen and seen,
Be his baptismal dower!