THE LITTLE ONES.

New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 553, 2 August 1851, Page 3

THE LITTLE ONES.

The little ones! the little ones! By every pleasant hearth Their tiny footsteps may be heard, The voices of their mirth. We should be sad, and dull at home, More harsh in word, and deed, If t'were not for the little ones Unto our hearts who plead. They are the whole world's innocence Its best, its sweetest flowers, The only remnant left us here Of Eden's blissful bowers; We fear to shew their guileless minds Our darken depths of sin, And many a soul who reaches heaven Will children beckon in. I saw a man in bitter mood Go to his home at night, And there begin to rave and swear To curse God's blessed light. The mother gently pressed his arm And pointed to the child, "The little one will hear," she said — And straight his words grew mild. Oh little ones — dear little ones! How often we forget, Amidst life's weary hopeless cares, Your holier, deeper debt. God lends you to us little ones To render back to Him As pure, as spotless as He gave His youngest Seraphim. And woe if passions fierce, and strong Come between us and you. And woe if words we daily use Prove afterwards untrue. Close watchers are the little ones, And what they daily see, Will surely let its fruit be shown Upon the glowing tree The youthful brow is cloudless now, The laughing eyes are bright — Oh, mothers keep them ever so By looking at the light. Oh Fathers teach your little ones By love, and faith, and prayer To tread the jasper courts of bliss And meet their parents there!

Auckland, July 30th, 1851.

St. George