Letter to a child (The disciple)

Letter to a child (The disciple)

Letter to a child (The disciple)

(The Saviour of the World, Vol IV Book IV Poem LXXIII)

My news is of a King—a King so sweet
that might she place her low stool at His feet,
And sit and watch His face the live-long day,
“My happiest birthday this,” would Susie say.
But that, for wisest reasons, may not be;
At least not yet. A mighty King is He,
And everything He wishes He can do;
So ’tis His pleasure oft to visit you,
And every little child whose name He knows.
But, that you may be in your weekday clothes,
And may behave as you do every day,
And not for company your best display,
He places His dear hand upon your eyes,
And holds them so—tho’ things of shape and size
You see quite well—you cannot tell when He
Is standing by, and so your thoughts are free,
And He sees just what kind of child you are.

But there is more to tell and better far:
You know He is a King; but, ah, not proud!
Not palace bright where many servants crowd
He chooses for his dwelling: the least room,
The tiniest house that anywhere may be,
A little maiden’s heart, is not too wee
For Him to enter in and make His home.
You wonder that he can:—the King may come,
Because He is so mighty, where He will:
And, if you watch for Him, your thoughts quite still,
You will find Some One good within your heart,
Who makes you care to choose the better part,
To be a gentle, thoughtful, loving child,
Not selfish, disobedient, cross, or wild.
And when He comes, he makes your face so fair,
Your friends are glad, and say, “The King is there!”