Rbong Xa
(467) Clasping his hands and hiding his face, Unconsciously yearning for help and grace, The little one now began ; His mother's nod and sanction sweet Had led him close to the dear Lord's feet, And his words like music ran: "Thank you for making this home so nice, The flowers, and my two white mice, - I wish I could keep right on; I thank you, too, for every day- Only I'm most too glad to pray, Dear God, I think I'm done. "Now, mamma, rock me-just a minute- And sing the hymn with 'darling' in it.
I wish I could say my prayers!
When I get big, I know I can.
Oh! won't it be nice to be a man And stay all night down-stairs!"
The mother, singing, clasped him tight, Kissing and cooing her fond "Good-night," And treasured his every word.
For well she knew that the artless joy And love of her precious, innocent boy, Were a prayer that her Lord had heard.