We praise thee Savior, for the grace
That bids us with our infants come;
That gives them in thy heart a place,
And in thy kingdom grants them room.

We bring them to thine altar Lord,
And here the holy seal apply;
O make them clean,—their names record
In thine own Book of Life on high.

When storms shall beat, or gathering foes
Beset the path their feet must tread,
Dear Shepherd! let thine arms enclose,
Or o'er them for defence be spread.

If thou hast marked them for the tomb,
Ere morning brightens into day,
As in thy bosom bear them home,
And gently wipe our tears away.

Or if when gathered to thy rest,
'Tis ours to leave them pilgrims still,
Guide thou their steps till with us blest,
They reach thine Everlasting Hill.