I THINK WHEN I READ THAT SWEET STORY OF OLD

I think when I read that 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 arm had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen his kind look when he said,
“Let the little ones come unto Me.“

Yet still to his footstool in prayer I may go,
And ask for a share in his love;
And if I now earnestly seek him below,
I shall see him and hear him above.

In that beautiful place he is gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiv'n;
And many dear children are gathering there,
For of such is the kingdom of heav'n.