Childhood's Piety.
Reading edition
If the meek faith that Jesus taught, Admission fail to gain Neath domes with wealth and splendour fraught, Where dwell a haughty train, Turn to the humble hearth and see The Mother's tender care, Luring the nursling on her knee To link the words of prayer: Or to the little bed, where kneels The child with heaven-raised eye, And all its guileless soul reveals To Him who rules the sky; Where the young babe's first lispings keep So bright the parents tear, The "Now, I lay me down to sleep," That angels love to hear.