  Six-and-thirty little mortals Coming to be taught; And mine that most "delightful task To rear the tender thought." Merry, mischief-loving children, Thoughtless, glad and gay, Loving lessons—"just a little," Dearly loving play. Six-and-thirty souls immortal, Coming to be fed; Needing "food convenient for them," As their daily bread. Bright and happy little children, Innocent and free, Coming here their life-long lessons Now to learn of me. Listen to the toilsome routine, List, and answer them, For these things who is sufficient 'Mong the sons of men? Now they, at the well-known summons, Cease their busy hum; And, some with pleasure, some reluctant, To the school-room come. Comes a cunning little urchin With defiant eye, "Making music" with his marbles As he passes by. But, alas! the pretty toys are And the music-loving Willie Strikes another tune! Comes a lisping little beauty, Scarce five summers old; Baby voice and blue eyes pleading, "Please, misth, I'm stho cold!" Little one, the world is chilly, All too cold for thee; From its storms "Our Father" shield thee, And thy refuge be. While I turn to caution Johnny Not to make such noise; Mary parses: "Earth's an adverb, In the passive voice." Well, indeed, it must be passive, Else it is not clear How such open language-murder, Goes unpunished here. "Second Reader Class" reciting— "Lesson verse or prose?" None in all the class is certain; Each one thinks he knows. "Well," is queried then, "the difference Who can now define?" Answers Rob: "In verse they never Finish out the line!" Boy, thy thought doth strangely thrill me, And as hours roll on, Hears my heart a solemn query: Is my day's work done? Do I make of this my life-task Do I in the sight of Heaven Finish out the line? Oh, it is "too fine a knowledge" For our mortal sight, All these restless little creatures How to lead aright. He who prayeth while he worketh, Taking lessons still Of the Friend of little children, Learning all His will; He alone can walk before them Worthily and well; He alone of life's strange language Can the meaning tell. May I then with heart as tender As a little child Lead my flock; and Father, keep them Pure and undefiled. |
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