Weep, little children, weep,

A father gone before;

For those who loved to see his face,

Shall see his face no more.

Yet all whom once he taught

To sit at Jesus' feet,

And seek the blessedness he sought,

May him in glory meet.

Mourn, youths and maidens, mourn,

Whom like a flock he led

To living streams from Christ the rock,

And in green pastures fed.

Walk in his footsteps here,

So, in the heavenly fold,

When the chief Shepherd shall appear,

Be you with Him enroll'd.

Grieve, fellow teachers, grieve;

With you he bore the Cross,

And gladly, for a crown of life,

Accounted all things loss.

Think with what power he spake,

While tears his words outran,

As though his very heart would break

With love to God and man.

His eye, his voice, his hand,

Still marshal you along;

A fearless, firm, united band,

Quit you like men,--be strong!

Strong in the Lord was he,

And valiant for the truth;

Go, train your little ones to be,

Christ's soldiers from their youth.