I Would I Were A Child

    I would I were a child,
    That I might look, and laugh, and say, My Father!
    And follow thee with running feet, or rather
        Be led through dark and wild!

        How I would hold thy hand,
    My glad eyes often to thy glory lifting!
    Should darkness 'twixt thy face and mine come drifting,
        My heart would but expand.

        If an ill thing came near,
    I would but creep within thy mantle's folding,
    Shut my eyes close, thy hand yet faster holding,
        And soon forget my fear.

        O soul, O soul, rejoice!
    Thou art God's child indeed, for all thy sinning;
    A poor weak child, yet his, and worth the winning
        With saviour eyes and voice.

        Who spake the words? Didst Thou?
    They are too good, even for such a giver:
    Such water drinking once, I should feel ever
        As I had drunk but now.

        Yet sure the Word said so,
    Teaching our lips to cry with his, Our Father!
    Telling the tale of him who once did gather
        His goods to him, and go!

        Ah, thou dost lead me, God!
    But it is dark and starless, the way dreary;
    Almost I sleep, I am so very weary
        Upon this rough hill-road.

        Almost! Nay, I do sleep;
    There is no darkness save in this my dreaming;
    Thy fatherhood above, around, is beaming;
        Thy hand my hand doth keep.

        With sighs my soul doth teem;
    I have no knowledge but that I am sleeping;
    Haunted with lies, my life will fail in weeping;
        Wake me from this my dream.

        How long shall heavy night
    Deny the day? How long shall this dull sorrow
    Say in my heart that never any morrow
        Will bring the friendly light?

        Lord, art thou in the room?
    Come near my bed; oh, draw aside the curtain!
    A child's heart would say Father, were it certain
        That it would not presume.

        But if this dreary sleep
    May not be broken, help thy helpless sleeper
    To rest in thee; so shall his sleep grow deeper--
        For evil dreams too deep.

        Father! I dare at length;
    My childhood sure will hold me free from blaming:
    Sinful yet hoping, I to thee come, claiming
        Thy tenderness, my strength.