html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Y Children, for whom first these simple lays
Were faltered forth in lowly notes of praise,—
Warbled their strains in sweet and solemn chime;
It ye should haply, in long after years,
Behold this gift which love alone endears,
Will ye not then, with fond, regretful gaze,
Turn back once more to childhood's merry days
So long o'erpast? that blessed Spring of love,
When all was peace below and light above!
And, as awakened memory swift recalls
These peaceful scenes, these old paternal halls,
Where well-remembered faces crowd around,
And Parents' voices blend with every sound;
Will ye not think of all our tender cares,
Our anxious thoughts for you—our ceaseless prayers,
And dream for one short hour ye feel again
A Mother's kiss—a Father's blessing then?
But oh, beloved ones! if through life's long day
Ye fain would taste of joys that ne'er decay,
Beware, lest that best gift should e'er depart,
The fear of God, impressed on childhood's heart:
Beware, lest Conscience, pure and bright before,
Despised too long, should raise her voice no more,
And all the tender hues of life's young day,
Before its bloom has fled, should pass away:
Jut now, with glad obedience, holy fear,
Begin to tread the path of duty here,—
And strive, from childhood's dawn till life grows dim,
To do God's will, and leave the rest to Him!
So shall ye best reward our anxious cares,—
So best fulfil our hopes, our earnest prayers,—
So prove the crown for which our hearts have yearned,
A treasure lent from God, to Him with joy returned.
E.