  I came, I go, at His behest, So, fearing not and not distressed, I pass unto that life unguessed. Little the babe, at its first cry, Knows of the scenes that near it lie; Less still of that dim life know I. But Love receives the babe to earth, Soft hands give welcome at its birth; And so I think, when I go forth, There too shall wait, to cheer and bless, Love, warm as mother’s first caress, Strong as a father’s tenderness. |
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