I TOOK a walk late in July,
One pleasant evening, when the sky
Was cloudless, blue, and fair,
And when a cool, refreshing breeze
Played o’er my head amongst the trees,
And the pure balmy air
Was filled with the sweet warblers’ song,
Whose joyful notes were borne along
Amidst that beauteous scene;
While happy groups were seen to play,
And little infants smiling lay,
Upon the village green.
I paused awhile, and gazed around,
When lo! I heard a gentle sound
In whispered softness steal;
I paused to learn what it could be,
When underneath a spreading tree
I saw an infant kneel,
With face uplifted to the skies,
With hands united, while his sighs
Choked the half-uttered word.
I listened; soon I heard him say,
“Dear Saviour, wash her sins away,
And save my mother, Lord.”
With wonder, love, and sacred joy,
I looked upon the charming boy;
And when he rose to go,
I took his hand and asked him where
He lived. He said, “I live down there,
In that small house below.”
“Where did you learn to pray, toy dear?”
He looked surprised, and a large tear
Stood in his bright blue eye:
“‘Twas at the Sunday-school,” said be,
“I heard that Jesus died for me,
And how he lives on high.”
“And do you love the Lord who died?”
“Oh yes I oh yes! I do,” he cried;
And Jesus Christ loves me.”
Then pushing some fair curls away,
Which on his little forehead lay,
And looking wishfully,
He said, “I wish my mother’s love
Was fixed on him who reigns above:
She’s ill, and soon may die.
All that I can for her I do,
And pray for her and father too,
To the great God on high.”
“And do you think he’ll hear your prayer,
And give your friends his love to share?”
“Oh yes,” the child replied;
“For I have heard my teachers say
He loves to hear young children pray,
And none were e’er denied.”
We talked till I perceived we’d come
Near to his humble cottage home;
Then he his hand withdrew,
And with a smile bade me “good-bye.”
“Good-bye, and may God’s love,” said I,
“Forever dwell with you.”
Twelve months elapsed, when I once more
Passed by that little cottage door:
A man was standing there.
I asked him for the child, whose voice
A few months since made me rejoice;
He said, “He is not here;
His spirit is beyond the skies:
His body in the churchyard lies,
By his dear mother’s side.
From him she learned the way to heaven,
And how her sins might be forgiven;
Then peacefully she died.
“When she was gone it was his rule
To tell me what he heard at school,
And thus I learned to know
The Lord; but soon he too was torn
From me, and I am left to mourn
Their loss while here below.”
He stopped and wiped away his tears,
Then said, “I hope in a few years
To meet again, to praise
The God of truth and grace above,
That our dear child was taught to love
The Lord in early days.”