WAS there a love on earth like His,
Who left His throne on high,
And changed His own celestial bliss
For human agony?
And He, who in humility
Bowed even to the tomb,
Hath in His mercy said, 'To me
'Let little children come!'

Oh, blessed babes! who fearlessly
Might lift your eyes to Him,
And that benignant glory see,
That grosser orbs might dim;
Whose hearts, as opening flowers, might feel
The power of righteousness,
Like holy dew, upon them steal,
Imbuing each recess.

Oh, blessed babes! who, unreproved,
Might sit before His feet,—
Might freely love, because He loved, —
Might live in converse sweet!
Wherefore were ye the chosen band,
Called to His presence here,
Whilst others pale and trembling stand,
Wavering 'twixt hope and fear?

Because your hands were free from sin,
Your hearts from earthly pride;
Because no passion's power within,
Your spirit's depths had tried;
Because your trust was perfect trust,
Your love unstained by clay;
And from your souls earth's sinful dust
His mercy washed away.

Oh, Saviour! are we, then, unbought,
Excluded from thy light?
May not our elder hearts be taught
To feel Thy truth aright?
Soften our pride, thy vengeance wreak
On sins that have defiled,
And make us humble, pure, and meek,
Even as a little child!