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I THINK WHEN I READ THE SWEET STORY

1. I think when I read the sweet story
of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as
lambs to His fold,
I should like to have been with them
then;
I wish that His hands had been
placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown
around me,
And that I might have seen His kind
look when He said:
Let the little ones come unto me!

2. Yet still to His footstool in prayer I
may go,
And ask for a share of His love:
And if I now earnestly seek Him
below,
I shall see Him and hear Him
above.
In that beautiful place He has gone
to prepare
For all who are washed and
forgiven;
And many dear children are
gathering there
For of such is the kingdom of
heaven.

3. But for thousands and thousands
who wonder and fall,
Never heard of that heavenly home;
I should like them to know there is
room for them all,
And that Jesus has bid them to
come.
I long for the joy of that glorious
time,
The sweetest and brightest and best,
When the dear little children of
every clime
Shall crowd to arms and be blessed.

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