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Poem

The Saviour of the World

In the Kingdom are the children;
You may read it in their eyes;
All the freedom of the Kingdom
In their careless humour lies.

Very winsome are the children,
Say, whence comes it, their sweet grace?
Small the pains they take for goodness,
Scarcely know they Duty’s face.

Frail and faulty little lieges,
Yet well-pleasing to their King:
Scanty thought they take to serve Him;
Yet the chosen Offering bring;

Ours, the weary long endeavour;
Theirs, the happy entering in: