I wash the dirt from little feet,
And as I wash I pray:
“Lord, keep them ever pure and true
To walk the narrow way.”
I wash the dirt from little hands,
And earnestly I ask:
“Lord, may they ever yielded be
To do the humblest task.”
I wash the dirt from little knees,
And pray: “Lord, may they be
The place where victories are won,
And orders sought from Thee.”
I scrub the clothes that soil so soon,
And pray: “Lord, may her dress
Throughout eternal ages be
Thy robe of righteousness.”
Ere many hours shall pass I know
I’ll wash these hands again,
And there’ll be dirt upon her dress
Before the day shall end;
But as she journeys on through life,
And learns of want and pain,
Lord, may her precious little heart
Be cleansed from sin and stain;
For soap and water cannot reach
Where Thou alone can see.
Her hands and feet, these I can wash;
Thy blood, her heart, can free.