1. 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 Him then.
  2. 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.”
  3. I long for the joy of that glorious time,
    The sweetest and brightest and best,
    When the dear little children of every clime
    Shall crowd to His arms and be blest.