Father, Thy children are so tired to-night, And fain would rest.
We long to lay our weary heads in peace
On Jesus' breast.

As little ones, whose eyes are heavy grown,
We come to Thee.
Nor questioning thy love, we feel a sweet
Security.

Thy love constrains to leave all earthly things,
Our transient joys.
The things our restless, childish hands have spoiled,
Our broken toys.

Thou knowest each one on which our foolish hearts
So loved to dwell.
Thou 'st marked the tears when, scattered at our feet,
The fragments fell.

How oft, when disappointment's bitter cup was drained,
We turned to Thee,
Assured in Thy great loving heart to find
Sweet sympathy.

O, grant us,, blessed God, that childlike trust
Which knows not doubt nor fear,
But simply takes the hand which leads the way,
Whether it be dark or clear.

H. McD.