146. I Think When I Read That Sweet Story

I think when I read that sweet story of old, When Jesus was here among men, How He called little children as lambs to His fold, I should like to have been with Him then. I wish that His hands had been placed on my head, That His arm had been thrown around me, And that I might have seen His kind look when He said, Let the little ones come unto Me. I long for the joy of that glorious time, The sweetest and brightest and best, When the dear little children of every clime Shall crowd to His arms and be blest.