Do you, my little reader, know
How nice it is to dwell
Beneath a quaint old roof of thatch,
Near many a leafy dell?
If so, you know how pleasant too,
'Tis by the brook to play;
To watch the tiny fishes there,
Or gather flowerets gay.
But there are times when play is o'er,
And we to school must go;
Across the stream the schoolhouse lies,
'Tis near the time, I trove.
Dear brother Ben, please take me o'er,
The brook's so wide and deep;
Your arms are very, very strong,
And safely me can keep.
But I am told that there are arms
Than Ben's more strong and kind,
Those precious, everlasting arms
Believing ones do find.