Hark, how he calls the tender lambs,
And folds them in his arms!

2 "Suffer the little ones," he says,
"Forbid them not to come;
Of such is heaven; and souls like these
Shall find in heaven their home."

3 We bring them, Lord, with thankful hands,
And yield them up to Thee;
Joyful that we ourselves are Thine,
Thine let our offspring be!

446. C. M. Briggs' Coll.

Remember Thy Creator in the Days of Thy Youth.

1 Ye joyous ones! upon whose brow
The light of youth is shed,
O'er whose glad path life's early flowers
In glowing beauty spread;
Forget not Him whose love hath poured
Around that golden light,
And tinged those opening buds of hope
With hues so softly bright.

2 Thou tempted one! just entering
Upon enchanted ground,
Ten thousand snares are spread for thee,
Ten thousand foes surround:
A dark and a deceitful band,
Upon thy path they lower;
Trust not thine own unaided strength
To save thee from their power.

3 Thou whose yet bright and joyous eye
May soon be dimmed with tears,
To whom the hours of bitterness
Must come in coming years;
Teach early thy confiding eye
To pierce the cloudy screen,
To look above the storms of life,
Eternally serene.

447. L. M. L. E. Landon.

Feed My Lambs!

1 While yet the youthful spirit bears
The image of its God within,
And uneffaced that beauty wears,
Which may too soon be stained by sin;

2 Then is the time for faith and love
To take in charge their precious care,--
Teach the young heart to look above,
Teach the young lips to speak in prayer.

3 The world will come with care and crime,
And tempt too oft that heart astray;
Still the seed sown in early time
Shall not be wholly cast away.

4 The infant prayer, the infant hymn,
Within the darkened soul will rise,
When age's weary eye is dim,
And the grave's shadow round us lies.

5 The infant hymn is heard again,
The infant prayer is breathed once more;
Reclasping thus the broken chain,
We turn to all we loved before.

448. L. M. Anonymous.