Classic Poem

When around the lovely Saviour,
Infants with affection prest,
Breathing out his words of favor,
Every sunny brow he blest;
Though the stern disciples chid them,
Babes and sucklings thus to come,
Jesus cried, do not forbid them,
Such compose my heavenly home.

Here within thy chosen dwelling,
Where thy cloud of glory stays,
All thy loving-kindness telling,
Children would attempt thy praise;
For the Gospel thou hast sent us,
Grateful tribute would we give,
For the teachers thou hast lent us,
Would we bless thee while we live.

When our earthly praise has ended,
On seraphic pinion borne,
By the bright-winged band attended,
May we rise to heavenly morn;
Gathering then around thy altar,
Pupils, teachers, all above,
Lord with lips that may not falter,
Each shall sing redeeming love.