  See ten thousand cradles swaying With their burdens to and fro; In the vales and on the mountains, Tropics warm and fields of snow; Every land and tribe and people Hears the little new-born voice; Sees the rising generation In its early thoughts rejoice. Shivering Greenland has these treasures, Wrapt in furs with tender care. Sunny India fans her birdlings In the warm and balmy air, And the spicy isles shed sweetness ’Round the little cherished bed: From pole to pole the mother’s bosom Pillows soft her darling’s head. Little velvet hands are playing; Little dimpled fingers move; Little restless feet are nestling; Little ruby lips of love All throughout the world are smiling: Precious baby hearts are light; Wondering at surrounding objects, Then the countless groups of children Sporting as they glide along The stream of life, while bird and rillet Interweave their cheerful song With sweetest notes; and childhood’s hours Seem like a morning of delight Where gardens bloom with fairest flowers, Glittering with the dews of night. Oh! the rising generation Soon will rule throughout the world, And the thoughts we daily teach them Soon like banners be unfurled; Soon our words and tones be copied, And like seeds spring up again, Swaying future generations, Molding hearts and voices then: And again be scattered broadcast, And again in harvest rise. Teach us, Lord, Thy perfect wisdom: Make our hearts and lips and eyes To speak forth tenderness and love. Make the very tone of voice The index to the will subdued, Telling, “We in Christ rejoice.” Give us faith and peace unshaken; The fear of God, to guard and quicken, Till each thought with God is blent; Till His glorious presence fills With sweet peace no words can tell, And we can every cross endure, Seeing Him invisible. Like Moses then the parent’s face Shall tell what patience Jesus gives; And little wond’ring hearts will trace The path to where Immanuel lives. And little children yearn to know The sweetness of the Saviour’s love. Then, then the world will turn to God. Then children pray with earnest soul; The clouds of unbelief will flee, And light shall spread from pole to pole, As millions bear the Gospel on And scatter Day-beams through the earth, Till all the nations shall arise Rejoicing in immortal birth. That glorious day my soul shall see; Perchance on earth, or looking forth From Heaven’s heights of amethyst Rejoicing o’er the ransomed earth. Rise, Christian, rise. Wake, parent, wake. The Rising Generation calls; Go onward and proclaim the road. endpaper divider |
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