W1
Verse 1
O Holy Lord, content to fill
In lowly home the lowliest place,
Thy childhood’s law a mother’s will,
Obedience meek Thy brightest grace;
Verse 2
Lead every child that bears Thy Name
To walk in Thine own guileless way,
To dread the touch of sin and shame,
And humbly, like Thyself, obey.
Verse 3
O let not this world’s scorching glow
Thy Spirit’s quickening dew efface,
Nor blast of sin too rudely blow,
And quench the trembling flame of grace.
Verse 4
Gather Thy lambs within Thine arm,
And gently in Thy bosom bear;
Keep them, O Lord, from hurt and harm,
And bid them rest for ever there.
Verse 5
So shall they, waiting here below,
Like Thee their Lord, a little span,
In wisdom and in stature grow,
And favor with both God and man.