Classic Poem

Childish tears are like the dew,
When bright day is fresh and new,
With the Sun's first kindly beam
Vanishing in subtile steam —
Leaving every bell and blade
Fresher, brighter, fairer made.

Thus when simple childhood grieves,
Simplest remedy relieves;
Touched by pleasure's gladdening ray,
Sorrow vanishes away,
While th'elastic spirits soar
Higher even than before.

Tears that fall from older eyes
From a deeper source arise;
When those bitter waters flow
May my child his Saviour know —
May he find the best relief
For the worst of earthly grief!

Man was made to mourn and weep,
Doomed the fruits of toil to reap;
When my child has learnt the truth
Of his heritage of ruth,
May he humbly, meekly pray,
" Jesus, wipe my tears away!

Teach my heart a worthier sorrow;
Strength and comfort let me borrow
For the bitter strife within —
Strife of weakness and of sin;
Gracious Master, make me prize
Happiness beyond the skies!"