“SOMETHING for me, dear mamma, write!”

Came with her kiss and sweet “good-night!”

So thinking, with a mother’s love,

Of all that waits below, above—

Each upward step, each earthward snare,

I breathe for her a mother’s prayer.

Father, I ask not cloudless day

To shine o’er all the untried way

Appointed for these tender feet

Ere they may walk the golden street;

Whate’er the path Thy love assign,

Hold fast this little hand in Thine.

I dare not say for this young heart

So much of earthly bliss impart;

From thine it caught its earliest thrill,

Each throb but answers to Thy will,

So in Thy tender love I rest—

Whate’er betide, Thou knowest best!

Not wealth I crave, its unseen “wings”

Rank it amid earth’s baseless things;

Not on the scroll of worldly fame

I ask to write this well-loved name;

One book I know than all more fair,

The “Book of Life,” oh! write it there.

Saviour of little ones, I bring

To Thee this priceless offering,

This one sweet lamb, nor let her stray

Far from thy heavenly fold away;

“By the still waters” cool and sweet,

“In pastures green” oh! guide her feet.