Dear Soul, couldst thou become a child While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, Then God Himself were ever near, And Paradise around thee here. | A child cares nought for gold or treasure, Nor fame nor glory yield him pleasure; In perfect trust, he asketh not If rich or poor shall be his lot. | Little he recks of dignity, Nor prince nor monarch feareth he; Strange that a child so weak and small Is oft the boldest of us all! | He hath not skill to utter lies, His very soul is in his eyes; Single his aim in all, and true, And apt to praise what others do. | 24 No questions dark his spirit vex, No faithless doubts his soul perplex, Simply from day to day he lives, Content with that the present gives. | Scarce can he stand alone, far less Would roam abroad in loneliness; Fast clinging to his mother still, She bears and leads him at her will. | He will not stay to pause and choose, His father's guidance e'er refuse, Thinks not of danger, fears no harm, Wrapt in obedience' holy calm. | For strange concerns he careth nought; What others do, although were wrought Before his eyes the worst offence, Stains not his tranquil innocence. | His dearest work, his best delight, Is, lying in his mother's sight, To gaze for ever on her face, And nestle in her fond embrace. | O childhood's innocence! the voice Of thy deep wisdom is my choice! Who hath thy lore is truly wise, And precious in our Father's eyes. | 25 Spirit of childhood! loved of God, By Jesu's Spirit now bestowed! How often have I longed for thee; O Jesus, form Thyself in me! | And help me to become a child While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, That I may find God always near, And Paradise around me here. | |